Daughter Of Rohan
by WhenILookAtTheStars
Summary: Laurelin met her mother by the door of the grand hall. She and Eowyn were as different as the sun and moon both in manner and appearance, yet they both held a fair, grave look in their eyes according to Faramir.
1. The Company on Horses

**Title:** Daughter of Rohan

**Summary:** The daughter of Faramir and Eowyn embarks on a journey to run away from a situation that fate feels she must face. A post LOTR second generation fic.

**Characters: **Mostly OC; Laurelin, daughter of Eowyn and Faramir & Eldarion, son of Arwen and Aragorn (Elessar)

**Genre:** Action Adventure/Romance

**Rating:** PG-13

**A/N:** Wow, this is definently my oldest fan fiction. I started this when I was fourteen! For two years this has plagued my pen! However, at the moment, I am going through some hard core editing. I did not realize what a horrible reviser I was in Middle School. I cringe to think of the papers I must have handed in! Stick with me, gentle readers, for I shall update as soon as I doserious cutting and pasting on earlier chapters! New material shall come as soon as I appease my inner critic! I promise! Also, if you are wondering where chapter 2 went i merged it with chapter one!

* * *

The morning sun burned away what was left of the evening mist. A few last wisps drifted despondently along the grey green hills. Laurelin stood in the field to the east of the House of Rohan, letting the eastern breeze wash over her. She peered into the distance looking for any sign of a company on horseback.

Her mother would have had a fit if she had seen her out there barefoot and knee deep in dewy grass. Her horse Linad stood patiently grazing nearby. Laurelin shifted her weight from foot to foot. Nothing could be seen for miles. Legolas could probably see all the way to Minas Tirith.

Yet he was not there and neither was Gimli or her father, Faramir. They were off in Minas Tirith seeing to some unknown business. Laurelin's mother decided that she would take her daughter to visit Rohan during their time of absence. Rohan was the place of her birth and home of her brother King Eomer. Faramir's company sent word earlier that week that they return that morning.

Laurelin gave an exasperated groan and leapt back onto her horse. Linad replied softly with a comforting whiney and shook her honeyed head. Laurelin set the horse to a gallop back to the House, morning weaving its spell over the quiet earth.

Laurelin was the eldest daughter of Faramir and Lady Eowyn. She had been named for the younger of the Two Trees of the Valinor. Elvish legend told that the tree's leaves were so bright that they shone out into the world long before the sun and moon. Queen Arwen had opted idea when she was born, for Laurelin's hair had been sugary gold. Yet, as most children, the baby blonde curl fell out by the time she was two years of age. Now it had almost darkened to black giving her no resemblance to her namesake.

Laurelin could already hear her mother scolding for sneaking out before dawn and stealing several biscuits from the kitchen. After setting Linad up in her stall, she quietly slipped into the White Hall. The ripening sun poured yellow light through the windows to the east. She crept along the halls of her fathers trying to be as inconspicuous as a shadow.  
  
"Where have you been gallivanting off to this morning, dear niece,"  
  
Laurelin felt her insides cringe and turned to see her uncle's solid form in the shadows.

"To watch for the company. They gave word they would be riding home this morn," Laurelin spoke with half a grin.  
  
King Eomer had fought along side her father in the War of the Ring at least twenty years before. His weathered face and tired eyes gave the impression of someone twice his age, but his smile brought youth back to his countenance.  
  
"I will have a messenger come and fetch you when your father arrives. I believe it would be in your best interest to back to your quarters for the time being. I hear that your father brings a few guests with him." He replied walking up to her.  
  
"Who?"

"The King Elessar and Queen Arwen," His eyebrows arched with his announcement.  
  
Laurelin's heart dropped to her gullet. She had not seen the great king and queen since she was very young. Not meaning to be rude, just caught up in the moment, she sped off to her chambers with out a word. All was sent into an unorganized frenzy. Her handmaids looked about frantically for this dress or this comb, yet all the bedlam was well worth the effort. By the time a messenger was sent, Laurelin looked more like a Lady of the court than the wild horse girl she had been earlier that morning. Her dark hair still lay about her shoulders but braids were scattered here and there about it. Her mantel was white for the horses of Rohan, and about her neck was an oval emblem with a horse's tail.  
  
She met her mother by the door of the grand hall. They were as different as the sun and moon in manner and appearance, yet they both held a fair, grave look in their eyes according to Faramir. They walked side by side toward the company who had just arrived. As King Eomer had said, the King Elessar and Queen Arwen stood along with her father. Laurelin held back her joy as long as she could as her father greeted her mother and uncle. When he turned to her and held his arms open, she could not contain herself.

"Oh my Daughter," He said as Laurelin, "It seems that you have grown taller much to my distress."  
  
Laurelin separated herself from her father and embraced Legolas and Gimli as well. She blushed when she realized the King and Queen had witnessed her childish antics. King Elessar had a noble brow, wrinkled with years of care, and his smiling mouth was wide with joy. His silver hair was thick with forgotten youth. Queen Arwen had not changed since she had last seen her. Laurelin wished she possessed some of the grace the Elven queen exuded. The Queen's hair was raven black and her eyes were a soft gray like the sky after spring rain.  
  
"Eowyn, my friend. I pray you are well ," She said taking the former shield maiden's hands with a gracious smile. 

"Dear queen, you are most welcome," Eowyn replied embracing Arwen.

Laurelin blushed deeper when she heard her name fall from the monarch's lips, "You have grown so since I last saw you, I pray you are in good health as well?" The queen inquired, wrapping her slender fingers around Laurelin's.  
  
Laurelin had trouble finding her tongue in the presence of such a lady, but her father interrupted the meeting with his mahogany voice.  
  
"I believe it shall rain soon by the looks of the sky. I think it would be wise to resign to the great hall where, my wife tells me, there is a great banquet waiting for us." He announced, hooking his thumb in his belt like a youth.  
  
The company ascended the great stairs as the wind whipped at their cloaks, hair and gowns. Legolas and Gimli were Laurelin's dearest mentors. It was Legolas who had taught her how to shoot an arrow and speak Elvish. When she was fourteen he had taken her to the Forests of Mirkwood with Gimli and her father. She longed still to go once again. Gimli had taught her how to wield an axe properly and she had taught him how to ride upon a horse, which was an adventure the three still found mirth in. They had been her surrogate brothers, since Laurelin did not have any siblings. Laurelin spoke easily about them and felt she could tell or ask them anything, which she did often.  
  
"What was this great important business that kept you three so long?" She whispered, lingering behind to walk with the elf and dwarf through the many-pillared halls.  
  
"Soon, dear one, soon," Legolas responded giving Gimli a sideways glance over Laurelin's head.  
  
The company entered the great hall to find what had been promised. There were two grand tables; a larger one at the center and another set upon a dais for the visiting royalty. Laurelin wished to sit with Legolas and Gimli to hear of their travels, but her father bade her to sit at the high table with them. Much to her distress she was seated beside Queen Arwen. She shrank beside such a grand and royal figure and found that her tongue worked no better inside than it had out. The queen saw her discomfort and tried to engage the nervous young girl in a conversation.  
  
"My dear Laurelin, you have grown so very much since I last saw you," She said with an easy smile. Laurelin grinned back warily, "I see my proposal for a name did not go over well," She continued, "I fear you should have been called Morwen, by the looks of you now."

"The mother of Turin Turambar and the wife of Hurin Thalion?" Laurelin questioned.

"Why yes! Do you know what the name means?"

"Dark lady, am I correct?"

"Quite! I see that Legolas has versed you well in our lore and language. I should have thought more deeply about my suggestion when I gave it to your mother that day you were born." The Queen said, cupping the jeweled chalice in her pale hand. The hyacinth on the rim matched her gown.  
  
"Oh but I like my name very much indeed, your highness!" Laurelin cried, "I would not change it."  
  
"Good," Said the queen smiling wider, "I am glad you are content. But my dear, something troubled me as we were riding in. I could not help but notice there were not many horses about. I do wish to see the mounts of the Rohirrim once again. I do enjoy riding, though I do not get many opportunities these days."  
  
Laurelin felt a gleam of hope. Perhaps the awkwardness she had felt around the queen earlier would soon subside. If this was to be an extended stay of theirs, that would be an advantage for her.  
  
"Most of them were probably put in the stables. My uncle and father probably wished to show your highness and King Elessar the grand improvements that have been made there. If you wish, I could show you my horse Linad tomorrow," Laurelin realized she was rambling and bit her tongue before she seemed rude.  
  
The Queen laughed at Laurelin's eagerness, "I would love to meet your horse and see these expansions to the building as well."  
  
Faramir's loud voice suddenly interrupted Laurelin and Queen Arwen's conversation.  
  
"Friends from afar and close to home," Said Faramir, "I have called your attention for the specific announcement of an event which shall hopefully take place soon in the next months. First, I would have my daughter stand." Laurelin nervously obeyed, curious as to her father's manner. "King Elessar and I have decided to set a bond between Rohan and the Reunited Kingdom that will forever tie the worlds of men. In the coming spring, the marriage of my daughter Lady Laurelin and the son of King Elessar, Prince Eldarion, shall take place to make a lasting bond between our families and kingdoms."  
  
Coos of congratulation and approval rose from the center table. The regal women on the dais stood around Laurelin clapping.

Marriage? Who was Eldarion? She had not seen him since she was a tiny babe! Was this a farce? Laurelin fought the growing number of tears that choked her. The most hurtful part was that they were all celebrating this arranged marriage, all of the people she loved. She did not wish to marry a man she did not know, nor leave her home. Fear, anger and hurt lay on her tongue like bile  
  
"What have you to say, my daughter?" Faramir said, raising his glass to her.  
  
Laurelin looked at him numbly. The silence that descended was so thick it hurt to breathe. In the barren air a single word forced its way from Laurelin's lips and hung in the room like a spell.  
  
"No."

"What was that, daughter?" Faramir's voice drifted like feathered cobwebs in the oppressive air.  
  
"I said no, my lord," She answered turning to him with hurt eyes.

Her Father looked dismayed and lowered his cup.  
  
"I believe the maid is too full of shock and mirth to understand. I wager she is-" Uncle Eomer tried to save the dying mood but it was too late.  
  
"No." Laurelin interrupted firmly, "No, I fear I understand all too well. I am merely a pawn in this political exploit. You have had the luxurious advantage to marry for love but you have condemned me to a man I have never even met! Does he even wish to marry me as well?"  
  
"Prince Eldarion was more than happy to marry you," Said her father sternly, "He knew his duty-"  
  
"I do not want to be a duty; an obligation to someone! And I will not play the pawn!" She yelled last.  
  
The silence that had drowned the room was now impenetrable. Not a soul breathed. Laurelin felt their eyes and could feel the anger and confusion growing in the nobles around her. It was too much for her to bear. She ran from the table, the room, from everyone. She ran till she found that her feet had taken her to the stables, her throat burning with unshed tears, betrayal and bile. She found Linad and stroked the horse's velvet nose while the realization of what had just taken place took hold of her. After that horribly embarrassing display in the hall, her family would shun her. Her mother might understand but her father would never look at her the same again and she him. What hurt more was the thought that her father had sold off his only daughter so easily without thinking of her feelings.  
  
"Will you not come back and eat?" Said a voice.

Laurelin turned sharply. Legolas stood in the doorway, the sunset framing his tall outline.

"I felt ill." She replied turning back to Linad. She was in no mood for talk.  
  
"I understand how you must feel, Laurelin-"

"Were you not a part of these agreements as well? Did you not have a hand in this?" Laurelin interrupted as walked up to the elf, "Do not speak to me of understanding, Legolas. Go back to banquet hall." Legolas' blue eyes were bright with hurt at her comment but she did not care. "No one can tell me whom to marry and whom not to," She said in a harsh, low voice, "I do not bend easily,"  
  
Legolas put his hand on her shoulder, "I know that well, little sister." He said wearily, "But we all have obligations."  
  
Laurelin pulled away from his touch, "Leave me be." She spoke walking past him and out into the night.  
  
"Where are you going Laurelin?" He called after her.

She did not answer but knew her reply in her heart.

She ran back to her chambers. The royals still feasted in the dining hall and would not retire till late. She opened the trunk by her bed carefully to avoid any unwanted creaks that might erupt from the rusty hinges. She pulled out her father's old tunic, shirt, boots and leggings from the War of the Ring. After folding her elegant evening mantel, she slipped into the clothes. They were large and old but fit sufficiently to cover. She stood in front of her looking glass and scrutinized her reflection. She would not have to bind her small chest, but if she were to pass as a boy she would have to do something to her hair. Its long dark strands ran all the way down to her waist. She thoughtfully stroked it. She had always wanted to be rid of its weight, but now she felt reluctant. The last thing in the trunk glinted softly in the firelight. It was the elven dagger Legolas given to her father as a gift at the end of the War of the Ring. Charily, she drew it from its sheath. The cool steel of the blade rang softly of untarnished metal. She gathered her hair in a fist and ran the dagger through it. She threw the strands into the fire and watched as they curled and popped in the heat. She turned back to the mirror. Her hair now only went to her shoulders in scraggly tufts. It would have to do.  
  
She put the dagger back in its sheath and slowly crept from the building, not looking back. She ran softly across the courtyard back to the stables. She would take no saddle for only Linad belonged to her, given to her by the Elves of Mirkwood upon their departure after their visit. They told her that Linad would do everything she commanded without a bridle or saddle. Leaning forward, Laurelin whispered softly in the horse's ear of her plan. Linad stood patiently listening then seemed to understand. She shook her mane and galloped from the stable out into the night.

Laurelin prayed they would not notice her absence till morning. By then she would be far away from this place. She did not where she was headed, but she was on her way.


	2. The Riders From Gonder

**A/N:** I've decided to merge chapter three and what used to be chapter four together. Both chapters were inanely short and i felt it would be more practical if they were together.

* * *

Laurelin rode out into the darkness. She did not dare look back for fear of seeing the Riders of Rohan pursuing her in the night. However no trailing hooves disrupted the windless air. Linad's lonely gallop seemed to echo for miles. The long gray green fields stretched on and on in a never ending sea of grass.  
  
She did not know exactly where she would flee, but she had an idea. She might go west across a tamer part of the Misty Mountains. Tales of Halflings from her childhood intrigued her. She did know, however, that she could not return to Rohan or Ithilien. It pained her to know this was her only choice next to an arranged marriage.  
  
After many hours of riding, the east lightened as dawn's pale yellow pink head peered over the rim of the Earth. Linad began to slow until at last she completely stopped, worn from the strenuous riding.  
  
"Shh, little one," Laurelin said, gently dismounting, "We'll stop now and rest. I believe we both need to get some sleep,"

Linad turned her gaze from Laurelin and started tearing up great mouthfuls of mist-dusted grass. Laurelin felt her own stomach lurch with hunger and wished she had not forgotten to pack some bread or meat. She lay down on the ground and folded her hands over her growling stomach, remembering the food she had eaten when she had visited Mirkwood. She savored the memory quietly, recalling the exotic and exquisite tastes of the elves' generous table. Soon reminiscences of that glorious visit came back to her.  
  
They were welcomed into the forest with open arms as the Prince of Mirkwood's guests. They stayed for almost two months, reveling in the splendor of the ancient kingdom. The moss draped trees touched the heavens and the leaves that fell were dark smoky emerald like a dragon's eye. The pleasant memories soon lulled her to sleep. The drunken black of slumber soon drifted her off into the lost corridors of dreams.  
  
She awoke to the sound of hoof beats echoing in the ground below her. The sound pulsated through her body making her eyes fly open and blink away the sleep that still lay thick on her bleary mind. Startled, she looked over at Linad who had stood grazing beside her. The horse's head was up and her alert ears moved back and forth. She had heard the thundering sound as well. Laurelin stood up; fully awake now and peered into the clear blue distance of the east. She saw an approaching company of horses. To the east was Gondor. She sat down and pondered what to do next. If they were a band of soldiers sent from Minas Tirith to look for her, her adventure into the unknown would be cut short. But that was absurd! Surely King Elessar could not send word that quickly of her absence. They were probably only now noticing that her bed was vacant and her horse gone. There were no trees to climb up and hide in on the open field, so she stood stroking Linad who grew nervous at the sounds.

Finally the company came close enough for her to get a better look at them. There were at least thirty men upon horseback. They flew the banner of Gondor with its white tree and seven stars. The leader was rode a dapple-gray horse with a proud gallop. Its white tail streamed behind as it ran. The rider was tall in the saddle with black hair that fell to arrogant shoulders. His face was young and brave with a stern brow. He wore a chain mail shirt and a sword at his side. The riders behind him were similarly dressed. The bright red of Laurelin's tunic soon caught his eye against the green of the landscape. He quickened his horse's gallop and stopped the company in front of her. Laurelin stroked Linad's nose and held the horse's head close to her for strength. She felt very small and afraid under the great warrior's sharp gaze.  
  
"What is a mere maid doing in these parts alone?" He questioned sternly. He must have seen her shocked expression at correctly guessing her gender for he fashioned a conceited smile on his lips, "Do not act so surprised. Your features are too feminine for you to be a boy, even a young one. Though from a distance you did look like a youth with that scraggly mop of hair." He continued. At that comment a ripple of amused laughter went through the company.  
  
Humiliated and angry at the man's arrogance, Laurelin lost her disquiet, "It is no business of yours in how I dress or cut my hair. I had no intention of disguising myself as a boy." She lied to cover up her embarrassment.  
  
The man's face contorted in surprise and bemusement "Where did you come from maid?"  
  
"Rohan, near Helm's Deep, sir." Laurelin replied coolly.  
  
"How did you manage to get all the way out here? You are nearly in Gondor."  
  
"I was running away sir,"  
  
"Running away?" He said with a laugh, "What troubles would a young maid have to run from?"  
  
"Troubles that do not concern you." Laurelin answered sharply.  
  
So far the young warrior from Gondor had not impressed her. A silence passed with the two glaring at each other till finally a soldier from behind broke in.  
  
"Your highness, I believe it would be wise to camp here for the evening. The light is fadin' fast." The soldier spoke in a strange accent.

He was older than the conceited young warrior but was obviously below him in rank. And he was right. With all of the excitement, Laurelin had barely noticed that the sun had almost disappeared into the land.  
  
"You are right, Captain." The warrior agreed, looking out into the west. He turned his attention back to Laurelin, "Are you hungry? We have enough food to share."  
  
The mention of food made Laurelin's belly rock with hunger, "I might be," She replied, angry with herself for giving into her pride and not answering that she was starving.  
  
The warrior looked at her with a smirk, "Well, if you want some, you'll have to work for it. So I'd decide soon if I was you." He said getting down from his horse, "And in case you were curious, I am Eldarion son of King Elessar and Queen Arwen."  
  
Laurelin's mouth was soaked in stunned silence. This was Eldarion? This arrogant warrior was to be her husband?  
  
"And you are?" He questioned, discarding his gloves.  
  
Laurelin stood speechless for a moment. He would surely know her name if she gave the real one.  
  
"Morwen," She answered, giving the first name that came to her mind. Queen Arwen herself had said that was what she should be called.  
  
"Mistress Morwen, are you hungry or not?" He asked, dark eyes posing the question along with his mouth.

Feeling quite helpless and still at a loss, she replied, "What kind of work?"  
  
Eldarion smiled, "Good. Then you can start earning your bread by seeing to the horses." He swept his arm back to the rider less steeds. She noticed there were more than just riding horses but beasts of burden being unloaded of their packages.  
  
"Suppers' in an hour," He walked away toward his men who were busy with the tents.

Laurelin looked after him, her lips curving at the tips. The irony of the situation was almost too vile yet too delicious to bear. She ran from what she met on the road.

Laurelin could hear the men getting together to eat by the time she finished caring for the horses. She ventured closer to the fire where a soldier was ladling soup into bowls. Laurelin watched hungrily but was reluctant to approach the stranger. Finally the soldier called Rolen saw her distress and brought her a wooden bowl filled with stew.  
  
"Here," He said handing it to her. A silver white scar ran down the side of his cheek, "If you be wanting more all you need do is ask,"  
  
"Thank you," She answered, then sat to hungrily devour the stew.  
  
The soldier eyed her with curiosity, "Now what would a pretty lass like you be runnin' from eh?" He asked sitting down beside her.  
  
All Laurelin really wanted was walk back up to the fire and ask for more food but she didn't. If she wanted answers to her questions, she would have to answer some herself.  
  
"An arranged marriage," She replied looking down at her empty bowl.  
  
"Oh, that be a terrible thing indeed. A lass should be able to marry whom she likes, not whom her family likes," The soldier responded, "Oh if you did not know, my name is Rolen," He held out a weathered hand in friendship.  
  
Laurelin smiled and took it in her own fingers, "Morwen," She said using her alias.  
  
"Very nice to meet you Morwen. Now, out of curiosity, I would be wondering where you're goin' now that you got no home?" He asked.  
  
Laurelin smiled, "I've already answered some of your questions Rolen, now you must answer some of mine."  
  
"Oh," He chuckled, "A shrewd lass, are ye? Alright then, ask away,"  
  
"What would a company of Gondorian soldiers be doing on their way through Rohan." She asked trying to sound as disinterested as possible.  
  
"Oh now, that be easy. Have ye heard of the Mines of Moria?" He asked, his gray brown hair reflecting the firelight.

Laurelin had heard of Moria from Gimli and Legolas when they told of their adventures during the War of the Ring. The mines used to be a great Dwarven stronghold, famous for its fine metals and also for it's evil. Though the great White Wizard Mithrandir had defeated it, a Barlog had dwelt in the dark deep places of the mine. Laurelin nodded mutely at Rolen's question.  
  
"Oh then you must be a right smart lass to know of such a dark place," Rolen answered, "We be riding for the mines to clean the mines of the orc scum, with the Barlog being defeated, and restore the mines to the dwarves. Of course we shall be meeting with a few other legions of men and dwarves, even perhaps elves." He said, his eyes now wide with excitement.  
  
Laurelin looked at him in astonishment. It was a fool's errand; pure and utter idiocy. There had been many attempts to retake the mines but all had failed.  
  
"But," Rolen continued, "I believe there is another reason for this 'quest' other than to help the dwarves."  
  
"What?" She asked. Her interest peaked.  
  
"The poor prince is in some what of a same predicament as thee. The good King and Queen have set up a marriage between Prince Eldarion and the Lady Laurelin, daughter of the Steward of Gondor and the Lady Eowyn. The prince wants nothing to do with the lass for she is but sixteen years and he a full-grown lad of twenty-two. He says he has no time for children yet his parents have already signed the marriage treaty. He is also a dutiful youth and knows his obligations to the kingdom. He sees this as a last chance for adventure before matrimony. That is at least what I 'eard." Said Rolen in a low voice so none but Laurelin could hear.  
  
Laurelin sat crestfallen. A child? She? The prince did not even know her! For the second time that day, she felt fire rise up in her belly toward future king. She looked up at the aging soldier, clutching her hands till the knuckles turned white.

"How dreadful," She answered, trying to steady her voice.  
  
"Yes lass, very dreadful indeed. Now for answering my last question? Where would you be going?" He asked, tearing a biscuit in two.  
  
Laurelin smiled weakly, "Well, I do not quite know yet. May be I shall go on an adventure like the prince." She said, giving a frail chuckle.  
  
"Well," Rolen stared into the camp fire with a wrinkled brow, "I have never seen the horses happier. I believe even the prince himself would have to compliment your job with them. And we need a cook somethin' terrible. Soldiers just weren't meant to cook, as you can tell from tonight's supper."  
  
"Are you suggesting that I come with the company?" She asked.

Rolen shrugged with a smile, the wrinkles on his brow deepening, "I believe it would not be such a bad idea," He replied, "You remind me of my daughter in Minas Tirith and I could not leave a daughter of Rohan to the wilds of Gondor or worse. It would probably be best if you came."  
  
Laurelin mulled over the offer. She could get her adventure and could prove to the spoiled Prince that she was no child, though he would never know it was she. Also this was the most unlikely of spots to find her. Her family would never know. She had nowhere else to go.  
  
Laurelin smiled at Rolen widely, "Why not?" She answered.  
  
"Well then! We'll speak to his royal highness in the morn then. Agreed?" He asked holding out his hand.  
  
"Agreed," Laurelin took hold of it and gave his fingers a firm shake.  
  
"Then you'd best be gettin' some sleep." He said standing; "You'll have a long day tomorrow if the prince decides that you can come along. Tomorrow we ride to West Emnet, since we only just crossed the Merring this morn." He said.  
  
Laurelin nodded and, after saying goodnight to her new friend, went to find Linad. Her horse lay in the grass asleep. Laurelin curled up beside her and sighed. She prayed the morning would prove eventful.


	3. The Art of Proving Oneself

**A/N:** Again I have merged two chapters together! I shall probably do the same again and again so bear with me.

* * *

The next day dawned clear and bright the sun riding high over the horizon. Laurelin woke to someone shaking her.  
  
"Morwen, Morwen!" Said a voice.  
  
Laurelin looked up and saw Rolen nudging her with the toe of his boot, "It's time to rise lass, we must be off. Remember?"  
  
Laurelin stood brushing the grass blades and horsehair off her clothes. Linad had left her to join the other horses and the absence of her warm body left Laurelin feeling cold.  
  
"Where is this Prince now?" She asked, Rolen already walking in the direction of the camp.

"He is in his tent. Best time to ask a commander for somethin' is when they are most distracted, which is the morning when you are on the move again." He said with a grin and a wink.  
  
The camp was being disassembled. The fire from the night before was a grave of smoldering ashes, simmering with remembered heat. Rolen led her to the largest of the remaining tents. The entrance was flanked by two banners decorated with the emblems of Gondor. Rolen tapped the thick canvas. 

"Enter!" Came a voice.

Rolen obeyed. Laurelin lingered outside uneasily than followed. The interior was nothing special. There was a cot in the corner where someone had slept and a table at the center with maps and other papers littering it. The Prince stood with another soldier fitting a mail shirt over his head.  
  
"Yes Rolen?" He asked, but than his gray eyes trailed over to Laurelin, "Ah," His eyes resting upon her, "The little runaway. Did you have a good supper? I thought you would have left by now."  
  
Laurelin straightened to her full height, "No sir I have not."  
  
"Did we not feed you enough for your work?" He asked.

Before Laurelin reply, Rolen spoke.  
  
"Actually, beggin' your pardon your highness, I spoke with the lass last night and it seems she has no place to go,"  
  
"And that pertains to me how?" Asked the Prince.  
  
"Well, sire, she did a wonderful job with the horses last night, and seeing that we not be the best cooks, us soldiers, I thought that 'haps Miss Morwen might come along with us, to do the cooking and the horse carin'. She wishes it as well." Rolen spoke carefully as if he was afraid he would trip over a word.  
  
"Absolutely not," Said the Prince sharply looking over at him, "This is a company of soldiers. The maid would not last a day and I have no wish to drag dead weight all the way to Moria."  
  
"Dead weight, your majesty? How are you to know?" Laurelin challenged, unable to hold her tongue.  
  
The Prince looked up startled. No one had ever defied his authority before. The soldier dressing him in his amour stepped back as the prince approached Laurelin. He was much taller and more intimidating up close, but she stood her ground. He was scented with earth and lamp oil. She had to admit that despite his nature, he was handsome.  
  
"What did you say?" He asked firmly.  
  
"You haven't even given me a chance, your highness," Laurelin answered, trying to keep her voice even, "You merely assumed that I was weak and venerable, not even able to take care of myself."  
  
The Prince gave her a stern questioning look, "Well," He said, relaxing, "What else can you do besides care for horses and cook?"  
  
Laurelin felt her courage rise, "I have a fairly good shot and I can wield a smaller axe. Though my swordplay needs improvement, I can speak Sindarin elvish. Like any good maid of Rohan I've been riding since I was a babe." She answered looking hopefully at him.  
  
Prince Eldarion's face broke into a reluctant smile and he laughed softly, "I like your spirit and honesty. You could probably defend yourself if we ran into trouble so none will have to be spared to protect you," He seemed to make his verdict, "You can come along, Mistress Morwen, as long as you do your share of work and don't get underfoot. We'll feed you and I'll see that you are fit up with a bow and quiver of arrows."  
  
Laurelin smiled widely at the Prince, "Thank you, your highness," She said her voice ringing.  
  
"Good, leave now and ready the horses." He said waving his hand to the door.

Laurelin slid out of the tent before another word was said. Rolen followed shaking his head and laughing,  
  
"Oh lass, I've never seen anyone afore stand up to the prince like that, especially never a maid." He said slapping his knee.

That day was full of strenuous riding for the company. The prince was determined to reach their next destination by sundown. Linad and Laurelin spent the morning riding in behind the burden animals to make sure they did not wander or lag behind. Linad was a great help to Laurelin when controlling the stubborn donkeys and burros. Rolen was at the head of the legion making it impossible for Laurelin to see him. The other soldiers seemed to ignore her and not give her any trouble.

At the peak of the golden sun the company passed over the Snowbourn Stream. The cool waters of the rivulet came from the Entwash. The Snowbourn split from its mother river and cut across Rohan then to Gondor and from there all the way to the sea. It was quite a restless stream.  
  
The Prince ordered they take a rest for a while and take advantage of the fresh water for they would not find another stream till they reached Fangorn Forest. Laurelin saw to it that Linad and the other horses drank first, than knelt by the waters in return and drank. As she knelt a shadow fell over her. She looked up. The Prince loomed over her. She stood and looked him in the eye.  
  
"I saw to it that the horses drank before me," She said, holding her head up.

"Good. Always the horses first." He answered. He held a saddlebag in his hands.

"I had a soldiers bag put together for you," He dropped it at her feet, "It has a mail shirt, and eating bowl and such in it."  
  
She leant to pick it up, but he put his boot on it before she could.  
  
"First, I want you to validate your statements about your skill with bow before you come with us any further." He spoke arching his eyebrows. Laurelin struggled to keep composure, "I also wish to challenge you to a race, or rather hold you to your challenge this morning when you said you could ride better than I."  
  
Laurelin looked at him in amusement. So the prince wished to fancy himself a better rider than she. She would just have to do something about that.

"We shall try the bow first." Laurelin said, narrowing her already small eyes.  
  
"Fine," He answered with a smile and drew a bow and quiver of arrows from the soldier's pack.

Laurelin took them and strapped the quiver onto her back. The Prince stood ready with his bow in his hand.  
  
"Ready?" He asked.  
  
She nodded taking an arrow from her quiver.  
  
"We shall aim for the knot in that tree," He said pointing to a lone birch that stood quivering in the breeze by the riverside, "I shall go first," He said drawing the arrow across the now taut string.  
  
The soldiers stopped to watch their Prince test the little maid from Rohan in archery. His dark eyes widened as he let go of the arrow. It sped through the summer air and right into the soft bark of the tree. It was exactly in the middle of the knot. Applause went up for the Prince from the soldiers. Laurelin stood indignantly and hoped Legolas had taught her well enough to make the shot she was now planning. If she didn't succeed, Eldarion would throw her out of the company.  
  
"Your turn, fair maiden," Said the Prince with a mocking bow.  
  
Laurelin smirked at him, feeling the tension grow between them. She positioned herself so she could make an accurate shot. She shut one eye and aimed. A slight breeze came up just as she let go of the arrow. The feathers at the end of it trembled slightly. The breath of wind was enough to send the arrow exactly where it was supposed to be. With a splintering snap, the metal tip of Laurelin's arrow spilt Eldarion's arrow down the middle. Not a being moved. Laurelin let out her breath and smiled at the tree. She looked back at Eldarion. To her surprise, he stood with a grin on his face looking at the birch. He shook his head and looked over at Laurelin.  
  
"It's seems we have a tie," He spoke with a smile, but his eyes were fiery.

It seemed the Prince liked a good competition almost as much as she did.  
  
"I would say so," Laurelin answered back complacently.  
  
"Yet, that does not relieve you from a race." He replied taking off his quiver and putting it carefully on the ground next to his bow.  
  
"As you wish, your highness," Laurelin said looking over at Linad, "I was just thinking your grace. Our horses tire out now from a race, we will not travel far. If we race toward our destination it would be killing two birds with one stone, as one would say."  
  
Eldarion considered her suggestion, "A good idea, considering we want to reach Fangorn before sunset. Alright then," He walked back to the camp, "Mount your horses men," He addressed the soldiers, "As we ride, Maid Morwen and I shall race."  
  
Laurelin smiled. If he only knew he was challenging his own betrothed. Laurelin looked over at the tree. The arrows were still in the knot, or more like hers was. Prince Eldarion's arrow was only half there.  
  
"Let them hang." She thought with a smile, her confidence growing.  
  
She was sure now. She would make the Prince regret ever challenging her.

"I believe you've found a right good enemy in the Prince!" Rolen laughed as they sat by the fire eating, "You should 'ave seen his face when you shot out in front of 'im on that horse of yours! Never have I seen a more surprised look on a man."  
  
"Well, he brought it upon himself," Laurelin boasted with a chortle, "He should know better than to challenge a daughter of Rohan to a horse race. That was a very rash decision of his."  
  
"Well, your now a bit of a hero among the men," Continued Rolen swabbing a last piece of bread around his empty supper bowl, "Now don't mistake us, Miss! We all like the Prince dearly and wouldn't change commanders for the world. He's a good leader and a fine warrior. However if you ask, every soldier in this company would agree that he's fed up with himself. After this day's race and archery match, well you just put 'im in his place right squarely."  
  
Laurelin laughed, "Well than I'm happy to be of service to you and the men. And anytime you want me to do it again, all you need to do is ask." She answered standing, "Well then Master Rolen, I bid thee goodnight."  
  
"I best be gettin' to my cot as well." He replied getting up and walking toward the maze of white-canopied tents.  
  
Laurelin looked after him with a smile. He reminded her of Gimli in a way. Of course he was much taller than the dwarf, yet he had the same caring yet obnoxiously honest nature. She shook her head of the thoughts. Yet she knew she could not completely banish memories from her head.  
  
Shrugging her shoulders she began to walk over to the horses that lay sleeping quietly. A voice stopped her.

"You will need your saddle bag," Said the voice of Eldarion.  
  
Laurelin turned and saw the Prince standing quietly. She walked up to him. He was probably still cross about the race but did not betray his feelings on his face. His eyebrows were arched with impatience and his mouth a thin line.  
  
"Thank you sire." She took the bag from his hands, yet not taking her eyes from his face. She had become less timid of him since the first time she saw him. She turned and began to walk back.

"I hope your victories today do not affect your attitude. You are still not higher in rank than me." He said, his voice taking a sing song bored tone, "I am still commander of this legion and the son of King Elessar, heir to the throne of Gondor and the eastern world. While you ride with us, I expect you to treat me as such."  
  
"I understand that sir," She answered. She was noticing a pattern in her feelings around him. She seemed to always fight to keep her composure. He was an infuriating man to be sure.  
  
"I do not encourage defiance either," He continued, walking up to her, his hands behind his back, "Insubordination leads to rebellion."  
  
"Well sire, you needn't worry about that. The soldiers admire you too much to organize a rebellion." She answered.  
  
"It wasn't the soldiers I was worried about," He replied with a stern glance, "You are under my orders now,"

"Do you not think I knew this when I requested to join your legion?" She answered in a questioning tone, "Respect needs to go either way, your highness; from subject to the authority and from authority to subject. I believe that is a lesson you must learn in order to be a good leader, your highness. Do you not agree?"

Her voice gave an edge she did not mean to come out. Without waiting for him to dismiss her, Laurelin left the prince standing in the dark. She did not stay to risk her tongue getting away from her.

She walked across the cool grass and found that Linad had curled up with the other horses. Not wanting to disturb them she walked out alone into the barren field and laid down. A waxing moon gave off ghostly silver light that shimmered faintly with the ethereal gleam of the stars. A warm breeze rippled the grass slightly about Laurelin, but she did not notice this. She had fallen asleep.


	4. Fangorn

Laurelin became more popular in the company after her race with Eldarion. The soldiers began to acknowledge her existence more often than they had done previously.  
  
They traveled two more days till they reached the Fangorn Forest. The foreboding rise of the trees abruptly stopped the company's steady pace. The trees were too thick for horses to ride through and even after the wood came the mountains that stood in the way. Laureling buried her head in Linad's honey colored coat, knowing that Prince Eldarion would have the horses sent away.  
  
After studying maps and listening to the more experienced soldiers, Prince Eldarion stirred and walked back to his horse, "We can go no further with the horses," He said taking his bow that was strapped on the saddle, "I fear we must send the steeds home."  
  
Laurelin buried her face in Linad's mane, "I believe that the spoiled prince is right," She whispered to Linad. The horse's ears perked at the sound of Laurelin's voice, "You must go back to Rohan and wait for me there. Do not worry, I shall return soon to fetch you," She said taking the soldiers pack from her horse and throwing it onto the ground, "Ride now Linad." She commanded with a heavy heart.

With a final glance back at her mistress, Linad galloped off with the other horses. Laurelin watched her fleeting form till she was lost to the horizon**.  
**

She glanced down at the saddle bag. She could not carry it all the way to Moria. Taking out the wooden bowl and tucking it away in her pocket, she fingered the elven dagger at her waist. Her quiver was already strapped onto her back with her bow wedged around it securely. It was all she needed.  
  
"We'll need scouts to venture first, the fleetest of foot in our company." The Prince announced to the company as they gathered at the head of the forest. He named Rolen, himself and three other soldiers that Laurelin did not know. Laurelin felt her stomach lurch with annoyance. She was the smallest in the company and was quiet and swift. She looked over at Rolen with pleading eyes. She wanted to go so badly.

"Excuse me sire," Rolen addressed the Prince, "I believe that Morwen should go as a scout as well,"  
  
Prince Eldarion looked over at her with distaste, "She might be swift on horseback, but I do not know if she is just as fast while on foot,"  
  
"Look at the lass, your highness. No armour, nothing to slow her down. Why, she should be the best choice for a scout." Answered Rolen.  
  
Reluctantly the prince mentally agreed. He could not let his personal dislike for the girl get in the way of his judgment as a leader. "Morwen!" He shouted above the din of soldiers, "You will come as well."  
  
Laurelin gave the prince a tight lipped smile, though her face ached to smile, "Yes sire!" She answered, her voice full and glad.  
  
The Prince nodded grimly and turned to the group of chosen scouts as Laurelin approached. 

"We shall split into two groups of three," The Prince stated, Laurelin standing beside Rolen, "Rolen, Morwen; you shall follow me to the east. The rest of you shall follow to the west after fifty counts upon our leave," Without warning, Eldarion sped off into the wood.  
  
Surprised by the Prince's abrupt departure, Rolen soon followed with Laurelin in tow. They followed Eldarion with out a sound, leaping over roots, dodging low hanging branches and sidestepping moss eaten boulders. Fangorn forest had an ancient, green air that filled it like an autumn sun. However, despite the peaceful appearance of the wood, the trees seemed foreboding. Laurelin had never been in a forest this old before; it was quite a mystical and inexplicable experience.  
  
Laurelin almost ran into the Prince when he stopped suddenly. He was still for a moment, silent and immobile as a man turned to stone, then he dropped to the ground and pressed his ear against the bed of pine needles.  
  
"Something draws near, something..." He mumbled.  
  
Laurelin looked over at Rolen who held the same tense expression as the prince.  
  
Eldarion stood rigidly, "It's something heavy and evil; iron shod shoes. It's approaching swiftly." He leapt up onto a near by tree and climbed up onto one of it's branches. Drawing an arrow from his quiver, he motioned for Rolen and Laurelin to hide.  
  
Rolen quickly ducked behind a large stump, but Laurelin stood frozen. The seriousness of the situation was the antithesis of her peaceful surroundings. She heard nothing; only the friendly whistle of a sparrow or the distant hum of a far off stream. Nothing else. Then the resonance of harsh laughter and cruel voices reached her ears, making her unable to breathe for the fright that pulsed through her body like adrenaline, cementing her feet to the forest floor.  
  
"Get down!" Eldarion hissed sharply.  
  
But Laurelin could not move. Just before the bulky figures of orcs immerged from the trees, Eldarion leapt from his perch and plummeted into Laurelin. He grabbed her by the shoulders and waist and rolled into a sheltered ditch, covered by pine branches.  
  
Laurelin almost screamed, but Eldarion quickly covered her lips with a hand, mouthing to her to be quiet. She could not breathe, but when she saw the orcs come into the clearing she was glad of it. The frightening forms of the grotesque monsters left her inert with terror. They spoke in a strange tongue she could not understand. Eldarion and Laurelin lay motionless. Laurelin looked up at Eldarion. His face was overwrought and motionless. Laurelin closed her eyes, wishing to block out the orcs but their voices rang through the forest, disturbing its solitary, primeval calm. She waited for what seemed like eternity, till the orcs picked up their gleaming scimitars and left, defiling the wood with their muddy footprints.  
  
Eldarion did not move, looking after the orcs. He seemed to have forgotten everything else and was deep in thought. Now with the orcs gone, Laurelin wish to breathe again. The dull weight of Eldarion's body still lay upon her, and his hand still was depressed hard across her mouth. Laurelin squealed softly into his hand, hoping he'd remember her. He looked down, back to reality and leaving his thoughts to the corridors of his mind. He smirked at her and lifted his hand.

"You were lucky, Morwen," His eyebrows arched, "You could have been beheaded by one of those cruel blades." with that he rolled off of her. Laurelin breathed in deeply and sat up in the little ditch.  
  
"They are headed for Moria as well," Eldarion said, moving out of the ditch and looking back after the orc host.  
  
"How do you know that?" Laurelin asked looking at him past the little grotto of tree branches.  
  
Eldarion looked at her and held out his hand. Laurelin took it and emerged from the ditch, brushing pine needles from her clothes.  
  
"They spoke of it. They are going there to try to defend the mines from the impending attack. They come from what used to be Mordor, until it fell." He answered picking up his discarded bow and arrow from under his perch tree.  
  
"You understood them?" Laurelin's mouth dropped open in surprise.  
  
Eldarion returned the arrow to his quiver and looked over at her with a quick smile,

"Aye," He said then quietly began to follow the horde of scum.  
  
Laurelin looked over at Rolen. He shrugged and followed Eldarion. Laurelin gave an exasperated groan and followed him. May be there was more to the prince than what she had first thought.

****

* * *

"They should have been out of the forest by now," mumbled Eldarion, running his fingers through his thick long black hair nervously.  
  
"May haps they were delayed, sire. It can happen in a forest of that size," Offered Rolen.  
  
They were on the other side of the wood now, right between where the trees of Fangorn ended and the Misty Mountain's sheer cliffs began. There had been no sign of the rest of their company for almost five hours and the sun was being lost to the west. Laurelin sat on the thin grass, anxiously drumming her fingers on the hard soil. The foliage was not as thick here as it was in the woods or even on the fields of Rohan.  
  
"They should have gotten here before us," Said Laurelin quietly.  
  
"I recognize that Morwen, and I don't need some half grown maid telling me what I already know!" Eldarion snapped at Laurelin.

Laurelin glared at the prince's rigid uneasy figure hatefully as he stood peering into the woods. She loathed him.  
  
The three stood still for a moment, just listening to the lonely wind that howled through the crevices of the nearby mountains. The very earth seemed to be moaning and the air that they breathed was thick with fear of the unknown. Something was not right.  
  
"I'm going back into the forest to try to find them," Said Eldarion picking up his discarded sword and returning it to his sheath, "You two stay here and start a fire. Eat what you can find and wait for me." And with that, Eldarion ran off back into the darkening forest.  
  
"We might as well follow orders and find some dinner and such," Said Rolen picking up his dagger after a moment.  
  
"I'll start a fire," Laurelin volunteered.  
  
"I'll go find us some supper. I'll see you in a few hours," He said picking up his dagger and walking off into the growing darkness.  
  
Laurelin gathered some dead dry wood that lay around the area she had been told to stay in and started a small flame in the middle of them. Gimli, being a dwarf, had a natural talent at fire making. He had taught her the best techniques and at that moment she was very happy he had.  
  
Rolen arrived in less than an hour, carrying two rabbits he had slain.  
  
"Returning victorious I see," Laurelin said, trying to lift the somber mood.  
  
"Aye lass, and we shall feast upon rabbit flesh till we burst," He answered with a smile, "Course leavin' some for our valiant captain," He added putting the rabbits by the now glowing fire.  
  
Laurelin frowned, "Let him starve," She said kicking a spray of dirt onto the fire. The flames blazed in protest.  
  
"Don't be sayin' that now lass. After He be savin' you this morning." Rolen said sternly.  
  
"Probably did it to appease his own conscious." She muttered, taking out her dagger and beginning to skin one of the lifeless rabbits.  
  
"Now Morwen, I know you and the prince have not been on the best of terms, but he's really not that bad," He said sitting by her and beginning to strip the remaining hare of it's pelt, "Now I be havin' a talk to the prince last night after you an' him had a little run in. I told him about you runnin' away from an arranged marriage an' he understood an' promised not to throw you out of the company until we returned to Rohan. Now is that not nice and just of the good prince?"  
  
Laurelin harshly continued her occupation, tearing the fur from the deceased rabbit. Rolen gave a sad sigh and went silent.  
  
They continued to skin and cook the rabbits without a word. They had not a cauldron or cooking pot to make a rabbit stew out of, so they skewered the animals onto Rolen's short spear he had brought with him and slowly roasted them over the fire. Even though they were hungry, they quietly decided to split one rabbit and leave the other for the prince for when he returned. It had been several hours since he had left.  
  
After they ate, Rolen went to his pack and took out a white clay pipe.  
  
"I'm going off to smoke," He said rummaging through his pack for some weed.  
  
"Why don't you smoke here?" Laurelin asked fretfully. She did not like the idea of being left alone in this thick foreboding darkness.  
  
"My father always told me that it twas never polite to smoke in front of women and children. Even though we be in the middle of nowhere I still refuse to compromise me ethics." He answered with a smile.  
  
Laurelin grinned back uneasily and watched him disappear into the shadows.  
  
The moon's muted light was smoky as thin wisps of a cloud passed in front of it. The stars looked cold, dim and very, very far away. The fire gave a little comfort, merrily popping and crackling despite the solemn attitude that swept over the land.  
  
Laurelin was half asleep when she heard a sound that made her sit up fast and reach for her bow. Footsteps were running through the wood behind her. They seemed to slow, than stopped completely ending with a loud thump.  
  
"Rolen?" Laurelin called out warily, "Rolen is that you?"  
  
A weak groan drifted through the dark. Drawing an arrow from her quiver that lay on the ground beside her, she readied her bow with shaking hands and stood.  
  
"Who ever it is, you had better not keep silent. I will stick you with a thousand arrows if you do not answer soon," She called out into the murky night.

Only silence answered.  
  
She cautiously began to walk forward, her senses sharp and alert with fear. She entered the wood and looked about. Only the shadows of trees could be seen. A moan erupted close beside her. Laurelin shrieked and jumped. In the faint moon and starlight, she could make out a crumpled human form upon the ground. She saw Eldarion's gleaming silver sheath around the form's waist. Laurelin dropped to her feet beside the prince and turned him over. There was a terrible gash across his forehead and his eyes were closed. She put her ear to his chest and listened intently for a heartbeat. She could just make out a quiet beating. Relieved that he was alive, she sat him up and draped one of his arms around her shoulders. Struggling, she stood up, clinging to Eldarion's motionless body. He was very heavy and she could barely drag him, but somehow she got him to the fireside.  
  
In the stronger light, she could see that he had many scratches upon his face, neck, and the unprotected parts of his shoulders. The cut on his head looked quite serious. She took the chain mail shirt off of him and put it on the ground next to the fire. The prince now looked less regal in only his shirt, leggings and boots. She filled her supper bowl with some water and ripped a bit of cloth from her tunic. It was very hard to tend to his wounds with menial doctoring skills and inadequate materials, but she bathed his forehead and the deeper scratches on his neck and shoulders and bound them the best she could. She ended up having to use her whole tunic, ripping it to shreds for bandages. She thought it no loss considering it was already torn. Soon though, the stinging cool fingers of the evening breeze found its way through the thin fabric of her shirt and she was soon shivering.  
  
Rolen returned after she had finished tending to the prince. He looked in shock on Eldarion's unconscious body by the fire.  
  
"What happened?" He asked going to the prince's side. Laurelin sat next to Eldarion, trembling with the night chill. She told him all that had happened since he had left.

"It looks like Prince Eldarion got himself into quite a scarp of some sort. Probably with some of those orcs." He said, putting his pipe back into his pack, "Well, I say we not trust this place and keep a guard tonight. Would not be safe not to."  
  
"I'll take first guard," Said Laurelin looking at the prince. His breath seemed to come more easily now than it had when she had first found him.

"Alright then, if you wish." Rolen answered, lying down on the hard ground, "Wake me up in a couple of hours or till you can't keep your eyelids open anymore." He said and was almost immediately asleep.

Laurelin shook her head and wrapped her arms around her knees, trying to keep away the cold. The bright flames leapt like jagged knives, hot and cruel. Laurelin soon found herself transfixed by them and concentrated on their warmth, trying to stay awake.  
  
A couple of hours passed uneventfully. She looked over at Rolen. He lay stretched out and snoring like a dwarf, louder even. She chuckled sleepily and looked back at the fire.  
  
Soon its heat lulled her into a troubled slumber that shook her mind and racked her body. She could not remember what happened in her dreams when she awoke shivering. Cold sweat slid down her back. She had fallen over from her sitting position and now lay by the fire. She sat up quickly and looked around. The sky had not lightened to dawn's early gray but the moon had sunk into the Misty Mountains. The fire had almost died away.  
  
She looked over at Rolen. He still lay in the same position sleeping and snoring. Throwing some more wood on the fire, she went over and roused him. He awoke snorting and mumbling, but understood enough that it was his turn to guard.  
  
Laurelin curled up next to the flames once more and slept without dreams. She did not stir till dawn.


	5. Explanation

The next morning, she awoke to find Rolen sitting up fast asleep. Laurelin looked to the east to see the sun rising cool and yellowed above the treetops. She stood and stretched. Her neck hurt from sleeping on the ground.  
  
Eldarion had not moved from his original position. His bandages were still neat and straight where he lay sleeping still. Laurelin sat next to him and looked at his face wondering what had happened to him and what he had seen in the wood. His expression was not as tense as it had been the night before and his slumber was peaceful. She heard Rolen snort and stir from sleep.  
  
Laurelin looked at the groggy soldier with a grin.  
  
Rolen looked at her stupidly, still dazed with sleep. Laurelin laughed a bit and stood, picking up her bow and quiver.  
  
"I'll go find us some food. There has to be something edible in that forest." She said strapping her quiver to her back.  
  
She headed out into the dark eaves of the trees; sticking to the shadows. She remembered the orcs they had seen from the day before and had no desire to meet them again. Rolen had told her that before the War of the Ring, creatures known as Ents had lived in the forest. They had yet to return from the rebuilding of Orthnac. As she walked there seemed to be an unrest that disturbed the wood's peace.

Something had happened that made the forest edgy.  
  
After about an hour of looking for prey, she saw someone in the distance propped up against a tree. The figure's back was to her but she could see the silver rings of a Gondorian mail shirt. She ran forward with glee, thinking that she had found some of their lost companions.  
  
"Friend of Gondor!" She cried as she ran up.

As she turned to face the figure her mouth dropped.  
  
He faced a battlefield of dead orc and human bodies. Soldier's remains scattered the forest floor in a lurid mess of blood and orcan gore. The figure that she had seen was the body of a once powerful soldier. He had been reduced to a pincushion of black arrows. Dried blood clung to his shirt. She recognized him. Laurelin stepped back, her stomach rolling and fell to the ground vomiting.  
  
Now she knew what had happened to Eldarion. He probably had been heading through the forest when he had come upon the battle and was wounded. He had probably dragged himself all the way to camp from the battlefield for help.  
  
Laurelin stood slowly, her knees shook furiously. She ran from the sight. She did not care the direction she went in but as long as it was away from there. She ran until her legs gave from beneath her next to a small waterfall. The fresh damp grass felt cool under her bare cheek as she fell to the forest floor, calming her burning skin. She cried till her eyes were dry. She had not been prepared for that sight.

Maybe she was not as strong as she had thought.

Laurelin did not know what had happened. She had fallen asleep from exhaustion and was awoken by the water from the stream splashing her face. She sat up quickly like one who has just awoken from a nightmare, yet she knew what she had seen was not a dream. The light of the sun had disappeared from the sky and a few pale white stars dotted the horizon.  
  
Laurelin looked about her. She did not know where she had run to in the immense labyrinth of trees. Panic seized her, making her head spin with adrenaline. She forced herself to calm, breathing slowly. Soon her heart began to slow to a steady pace and she could look around with a straight head.  
  
She saw to the east of the waterfall, a tree that had moss climbing over the left side of it. She remembered the old saying of how moss always grew on the north side of the tree. The camp had been northeast of the forest. With renewed strength, she set out to where she guessed the camp lay. The sky soon deepened to black, the stars now silver grey against the dark heavens. Laurelin had been walking for hours and her will was wearing out. She stumbled through the woods; her eyes blinded by the black that engulfed the forest in a shadowy cape. Her stomach growled with hunger for she had not eaten since the night before.  
  
A little bit after midnight, Laurelin looked up from her feet. In the distance, the glowing light of a fire flickered merrily in the dismal night air that surrounded it. With a last burst of energy she ran with all of her strength toward the wavering light. She entered into the familiar clearing, blurry eyed and shaking with hunger and fatigue.  
  
Through her foggy eyesight she could see the figure of Eldarion stand. Though a bandage was still tied tightly around his head, he looked stronger.  
  
She tried to speak but the day's toll took hold and she felt her knees give.

Just before her eyesight went out, she saw Eldarion stand and run toward her. She did not feel herself hit the ground, but was suspended in the air, held from the ground by strong arms. Nothing more came.

She awoke to someone wiping a cool cloth across her forehead. She opened her eyes wearily and looked up. Her eyes were blurry for a second, than things began to come into place. It was still night and the fire she had seen still burned brightly. She looked up to see Eldarion's face, creased by the orange blaze's light.  
  
"Your highness," She mumbled, "What, you were,"  
  
"Unconscious?" He offered with a smile.  
  
"Yes and your face, you're cut,"  
  
"Yes, yes, yes" He said with a smile.  
  
"When did you wake up, what happened?"  
  
"Well, Rolen informs me that I awoke a little after you left,"  
  
Laurelin suddenly remembered all that had passed and tears began to brim in her eyes.  
  
"What troubles you?" Eldarion asked worried.  
  
Laurelin sat up, "I saw the battlefield," She answered, sniffing.  
  
Eldarion's face suddenly became dark, "I see," He said softly.  
  
Laurelin rubbed her cheeks with the heels of her hands hard to wipe any remnants of the tears. She stared rigidly into the flames of the fire.  
  
"I came upon it in the tail end of the fighting. I was struck down by the blunt side of a scimitar and left for dead. When I awoke, none lived but I." Eldarion recounted sadly.  
  
Laurelin looked at him, "Did you hear where the orcs were going? Were they the same ones that we came upon?"  
  
"Yes, they were their comrades." Eldarion looked off into the night.  
  
Some footsteps pounded in the ground under them and through the night Rolen appeared, holding a dead squirrel in his hand. He dropped it and ran toward the fire when he saw Laurelin.  
  
"Oh my! Morwen, I thought we'd naught to see you again!" Rolen said joyously hugging Laurelin.  
  
Laurelin laughed and looked back to where the dead squirrel lie on the ground.  
  
"So we are reduced to eating rodents," She said with a smile.  
  
"I fear so lass, I fear so," Rolen answered with a grin.  
  
"We'll leave with first light, tomorrow. Hopefully there will be more game in the mountains," Said Eldarion standing and throwing another stick into the fire.  
  
"But we can't, you still might be too injured to travel," Laurelin protested.  
  
"I'm still head of this host and you will follow orders like you promised to," Prince Eldarion said turning to her harshly.  
  
Laurelin felt herself well with anger, "What host sire?" She fumed.  
  
The Prince turned to her again, "As long as there are at least two to follow, a host it shall be. We leave with the dawn." His voice was coarse with confined anger.  
  
Laurelin turned away and walked out of the circle of firelight, rage erupting inside of her. She had not deliberately challenged his authority, all she had done was worry! She would never understand that man, never.


	6. The Understanding

The sun found Laurelin the next morning when she awoke propped up against an old oak tree. She had slept there that night, too angry to return to the camp. When she awoke she thought she saw a figure through her fatigue-ridden eyes. She soon realized that Eldarion was standing close by, gazing into the dawn. He turned and smiled wearily.  
  
"Good morning," He said softly, "Rolen and I were worried for you when you didn't return last night so we went searching for you."  
  
Laurelin sat up, stretching and tucking her short black hair behind her ears, "You mean Rolen was worried for me," She answered standing and rubbing her back, "You were worried losing another one of your soldiers," She started to walk away.  
  
"That is not what I meant and you know -" Eldarion began harshly than stopped himself before he went any farther, "Morwen, we need to come to an understanding, before we kill each other."  
  
Laurelin stopped. She knew, to her annoyance, that the Prince was right, "Very well then," She answered scornfully, "You are right," She turned and walked back to where the Prince was.  
  
Laurelin sat beside the Prince, inwardly scolding her self for coming back, but a curiosity bit at her about what the son of Elessar would say.  
  
"We must try not lose our tempers with each other so quickly. That is what leads us to quarrels," He said holding up one finger in front of her as if she could not count.  
  
"Secondly," Laurelin said before Prince Eldarion could add it, "You mustn't criticize me so much. I despise that."  
  
"I can believe that," Prince Eldarion said with a chuckle, "Thirdly, you must leave some matters up to me. No matter how logical your explanation might be, sometimes some things are best left up to those with more experience." Eldarion said looking over at her, "Do you think we can live by that system?" He asked.  
  
Laurelin thought over his arguments. They were good, she had to admit, and did make sense. They could succeed in keeping them from getting into too many fights.  
  
Prince Eldarion stuck out his hand, "Do we have a deal?" He asked.  
  
Laurelin took his hand and shook it timidly, as if trying to weigh his trustworthiness by the weight of his hand. Then when she seemed surer of her decision, she shook it more confidently.  
  
"Yes," She answered, "Yes your highness I do believe we have a deal."  
  
They stood, "I fear though, your highness," She said with the beginnings of a reluctant smile stretching across her face, "I will find it very hard to live by this the first few days, especially after being around you for so long."  
  
The Prince laughed. A clear laugh, true in its intent, "I believe you may be right Morwen, you may be right," he answered, "Now, we had best be getting back to Rolen. He will be wondering where we are,"

* * *

The mountains were grey with afternoon by the time the threesome had reached the root of the mountains. The overcast sky made the travelers weary and silent. A desolate mood had settled upon the day. Even Rolen, who was usually lighthearted with a jest upon his lips, was quiet in the unstable hush of twilight.  
  
They set up camp by the very edge of the mountains. After eating a frugal meal of leftover rabbit meat and cabbage, they settled about the fire. Laurelin lay on her back by the crackling flames, counting the stars. Rolen and the Prince sat nearby discussing Rolen's warfare experience, waiting for the evening chill to roll over them.  
  
Suddenly a sound caught the maid's ears and sent a shiver up her back. It could have been the wind, but she knew it was not. It was too deep and ill meant to be the wind. Laurelin sat up, her body tense. It was a howl; an animal scream.  
  
"Did you hear that?" she asked, her voice dipped with fear and alarm.  
  
Rolen and the Prince stopped talking and looked over at her.  
  
"Hear what?" The Prince inquired.  
  
"That sound. Like a wail or something," She answered.  
  
They sat silent for a moment listening. Nothing out of the ordinary could be heard.  
  
"The wind makes awful noises in the cracks an' creases of the moun'ain. You, most like, jest 'eard that." Rolen offered.

"No," Laurelin answered abruptly, "It couldn't have been."  
  
"Morwen," The Prince said, trying to reason with her, "Rolen is probably right. The wind would make a sound like an animal in the crevices of the mountain."  
  
Laurelin felt her insides still. Maybe they were right; no earthly creature could make that sound. Her muscles relaxed and she breathed slower now. Yes, why wouldn't they be right? They had been about the country more than she and they would know these things. Laurelin shrugged.  
  
"Yes," she said, "You're right. Most like, it was just the wind."  
  
She lay back down and slowly began to fall asleep. However, a feeling in her belly told her that something was still not quite right. She ignored the instinct and fell asleep.  
  
The next morning, they began to slowly trudge up the mountains. The white light of dawn doused the travelers in an early sweat, cooling them off for the day to come. The Prince led them, then Rolen and at last Laurelin brought up the rear. It had been cool in the deep shades of the forest. Now they traveled open and in way of the sun. The heat of day descended upon them like a winter blanket, heavy and suffocating.  
  
Laurelin was glad she wore no armor. The beautiful gleaming mail shirts had become a burden to the two men.

"Oh," complained the Prince, "If only I could get rid of this blasted chain mail."  
  
"Aye sire," Answered Rolen, "I be of the same mind."  
  
They paused to rest toward midday, the sun climbing higher and the air getting hotter. They all sat beneath the shade of a lone elm, the men red-faced and panting. Laurelin could not help but wish to laugh. She chuckled lightly.  
  
"And what, may I ask, is so amusing?" Prince Eldarion inquired of her.  
  
Laurelin felt a bubble of laughter escape her lips.  
  
"You and Rolen," she answered, "You look like a pair of overworked mules."  
  
Rolen chuckled, "I believe she is right sire."  
  
The prince sat indignantly until a traitorous smile ran across his lips, "Yes, I believe so Morwen. Yet," Prince Eldarion continued, picking a dandelion from the ground and twirling it around in his fingers, "You, yourself, liken to a crebain." He grinned.  
  
Laurelin self-consciously tucked a strand of her short-cropped hair behind her ear. She had seen crebain before. Like crows and ravens at the same time. She probably did look like one now considering how much she had changed in the past few weeks. She probably looked nothing like the girl she was back in Rohan. Laurelin smiled.  
  
"Considering we'll be in the mountains for a long time to come," Laurelin continued, "I believe we shall fit in with the scenery perfectly,"  
  
"Oh aye lass, I can believe that," replied Rolen.


	7. Warg Attack

They kept extra watch that night. They were more open to the attacks of enemies on the mountain than they were on the fields of Rohan and Fangorn Forest. Laurelin and Rolen held first watch while the prince slept. No mater how hard he tried though, Rolen could not stay awake and soon he was dozing on the ground. Laurelin did not wake him. She did not blame him for being so tired from having drag around that mail shirt.  
  
She looked up into the sky. The stars were so much brighter here than down under the eaves of the forest or even in the clear expansion of the fields of Rohan. Perhaps it was because she felt closer to them being up so high. They seemed to sing of light and mysterious shapes; of tales long past and adventures long fulfilled. It flooded her with wonder and awe.  
  
Then something else seemed to seep into her consciousness, cloudy with marvel. The sound she had heard the previous night. Except it was closer now and much more ominous; like a creature was prowling. Laurelin stiffened with fear. Terror coursed through her veins in an angry river. She stood and looked out into the darkness. Red eyes glinted back at her with vengeance.  
  
"Rolen!" She screamed, "Your highness wake up!"  
  
Rolen and the Prince sat up from sleep, awakened by Laurelin's screams.  
  
"What the-"  
  
"Do something!"  
  
"Morwen calm down!"  
  
"Wargs, your highness. I fear it be the wargs,"  
  
"Rolen draw your sword! Morwen, prove yourself and draw an arrow," The prince commanded.  
  
Laurelin obeyed and held her arrow high, her hands shaking. The things that Rolen called wargs drew in closer. They were like wolves, except larger and fiercer. They snarled with milky white teeth, bloodstained at the gums. They circled the small group like a vulture would circle a dead foal in the fields. Rolen, Laurelin and Prince Eldarion put their backs to the fire burning a deadly red and blue. Light flickered off their figures, casting large dark shadows, trembling on the rock ridden ground. The air was thick with the rancid smell of the wargs coats; blood, urine and sweat. It enveloped the humans, almost choking Laurelin.  
  
A warg snapped at Rolen, a deep growl erupting from its throat. Laurelin let the arrow fly with a prayer. It embedded itself in the thick fur of its belly. The animal let out a cry and fell to the ground. There were only five animals left now, each as big as a seven-year-old child.  
  
"Good shot, Morwen," Congratulated the prince.  
  
"Yes, thank you Morwen," Rolen said.  
  
The remaining wargs drew closer to them. Laurelin's heart pounded. They were looking at her, the one that killed their comrade. She did not have time to think. One leapt toward her. Its teeth glinted off Eldarion's sword as it swung into its neck, killing the animal instantly. Laurelin breathed a sigh of relief and thanks to the prince.  
  
Laurelin drew another arrow and aimed it at another warg. It thudded into the space between its shoulder blades. Rolen maimed another as he severed its left paw. The warg limped away, trailing blood. Two were left. They continued to circle them, eyeing Prince Eldarion. They kept their eyes on him and, to Laurelin's horror, seemed to communicate in quick grunts and growls. Then the larger one that seemed like the leader, stepped forward. It stood right in front of Prince Eldarion. The two stood silent, each staring into the other's eyes. The warg's muzzle trembled as it growled threateningly. The wolf leapt forward, ready to clamp onto Eldarion's neck. It was stopped by Rolen's sword that sliced into it's head. Blood spurted from its mug as the animal retreated blindly.  
  
To Laurelin's terror, the remaining warg pounced onto Rolen. Rolen screamed out as it bit deep into his shoulder. A wound larger than a man's hand was left. Laurelin screamed and let three arrows fly from her bow. Eldarion lifted his sword and let it fall upon the animal. The warg let out a shriek and died.  
  
Laurelin and Eldarion ran to Rolen. Laurelin kicked the warg's body from Rolen. Rolen's breathing was harbored and slow. His wound was bleeding badly. Laurelin felt tears brim in her eyes and overflow onto her cheeks. Eldarion crouched next to their fallen comrade. Laurelin knelt on the other side of him.  
  
"Rolen," She said, "Rolen please say something,"  
  
Rolen opened his eyes and grinned slightly, "The damnable monster got the best of me,"  
  
Laurelin felt a sob erupt from her throat, her heart felt torn.  
  
"Oh Rolen, please," Eldarion said, his voice choked.  
  
"Your highness, worry not for me," Rolen said setting his hand on the prince's shoulder, "I have had the greatest honor a man could have. I saved the life of my Prince and future King,"  
  
Laurelin felt more tears. She let no sound erupt from her mouth. Rolen let his hand drop from Eldarion's shoulder than looked over at Laurelin,  
  
"Now, we'll have none of that," He said, lifting his bloodstained hand again and brushing a tear from her cheek, "I wish you could have met my daughter back in Minas Tirith. You would have liked her. I wish I could have seen her again. She and her husband are expecting their first child, my grandchild."  
  
"Don't talk like that Rolen," Laurelin begged, "You'll live and see many grandchildren to come,"  
  
"Shhh," He said laying his hand upon his chest, "I'm at peace and I go to see me wife. Don't cry,"  
  
Laurelin held one of the soldier's hands, while Eldarion held the other.  
  
"A soldier's death. What greater honor could there be?" Rolen said closing his eyes, eyes that would not open again to see Moria, the White City, or see his beloved grandchild.  
  
Laurelin and Prince Eldarion stayed at their friend's side, till the last haggard breath of life escaped his mouth, along with his soul, leaving them behind.

Night passed


	8. False Guilt

Laurelin felt like she was in a dream; drifting in the inner caverns of her mind aimlessly like a ghost. She awoke the next morning. She had cried herself to sleep sitting up. She still clutched Rolen's cold, pale hand in her fingers. A grey mist had settled, leaving her clothes damp and clinging to her skin. She choked a sob as she slowly freed her hand from Rolen's grasp. He looked as though he was asleep, his wound no longer crying red.  
  
Prince Eldarion was nowhere to be seen. She saw that he had dragged the bodies of the wargs to the fire and burned them. Ashes black with the morning dankness were only left. She stood. Her back hurt from sleeping so oddly the night before. She looked down the mountain. Eldarion's figure emerged from the mist; tall and harsh from the restless night. A shadow of a beard crossed his chin and dark circles lay under his grey eyes. He smiled weakly when he saw her; standing out in the open, fresh tears stained her cheeks like memories of a nightmare.

They buried Rolen's body on the mountain, tears watering the grave. Laurelin vowed to that when this was all over she would go to Minas Tirith and tell Rolen's daughter what happened.  
  
She slowly walked to a creek that ran a few feet from where they were camped. The sun had burned away all the fog, leaving the air still and cold. Laurelin washed the blood of the wargs and Rolen from her face, neck and hands. She dunked her head into the rushing creek to rid her hair of the mud and leaves that were caked in the strands. When she was done she looked at her reflection. She remembered back to looking in the mirror of her chamber all those weeks before. How much she had changed. She had seen and done much. She had disobeyed her parents, runaway, joined a company of soldiers, seen death, and had the blood of another living creature on her hands. Yes, she had changed much. She ran her fingers through her hair, getting out the tangles that knotted the locks.  
  
"We should be leaving soon," She heard Prince Eldarion say behind her.  
  
Laurelin stood and turned. It looked as though he had been crying not long before; he would not look her straight in the eye.  
  
"What troubles you my Lord," She asked approaching him.  
  
He looked up for a second than started to away walk, "Nothing Morwen. Gather your things."  
  
Laurelin nodded and decided to not argue. She did not have enough energy to. She followed behind with her eyes to her feet till Eldarion stopped and turned. Laurelin looked up; new tears were brimming in his eyes.  
  
"The death of all the soldiers and now Rolen. Am I at fault?" He asked.  
  
"No," Laurelin answered, feeling a surge of sympathy hit her for the prince, "It was out of your control. There was nothing to be done."  
  
"Morwen," Eldarion smiled weakly and brushed away the remnants of a tear on her cheek with his thumb. Laurelin trembled at his touch, "I shouldn't have brought up this topic, come now. We must be going," He said, walking back to the camp.  
  
Laurelin followed and cried no more.

They walked all day and night, trying to rid their minds of the death of their fallen companion and friend. They cut through a valley, green with new spring grass.  
  
"Can we rest?" Laurelin asked, not waiting for an answer as she fell to her knees.  
  
Eldarion looked over at her and smiled. She was already asleep. He had to admit. He was tired himself. He sat and kept watch while Morwen slept. His thoughts wandered as he sat plucking blades of grass one by one out of the ground. He thought of his father's trust in him, for letting him take this on by himself. He then remembered why he had done this in the first place.  
  
He rolled his eyes as he remembered his bride waiting for him back in Rohan. She was a child bride if anyone asked him; a sixteen year old baby. He rubbed his head. He was suddenly getting a headache from the thought of it. He remembered back to the last time he had seen Lady Laurelin. He had been eight years old and she only two. She was learning to walk, talk and all the things children of that age do. He remembered her stumbling over to him after a meal and then vomiting on him. He cringed. She had probably grown up to be an ugly awkward dolt; brainless and beauty less. All women seemed to be that way these days.

He looked over at his companion. She was a runaway from an arranged marriage, quite like himself now that he thought of it. Her black hair framed her small pale face in the watery sunlight. He had to admit, she was pretty. Not beautiful but he had never found women considered that to be entertaining in the least. Morwen was feisty, and he enjoyed their arguments, even though he would never admit it. Laurelin had had golden hair when he'd last seen her. He smiled thinking of the way Morwen had stood up to him. It was rare anyone ever did that. The moment his royalty was known, they were all agreeable and passive. It was tiring.  
  
The sky rapidly altered; the colors of evening blending with the colors of day. They washed over the sky in a canvas of purple and blue, pink and black. It was his turn to sleep. He walked over to Morwen and shook her gently from sleep.  
  
"Morwen, Morwen wake up." He whispered softly. She opened her eyes and looked up at him dazed with slumber. "My turn to sleep," He said.  
  
Laurelin nodded, and sat up. She rubbed her eyes to try to rid them of sleep. Night came without any unexpected surprises and morning came unaltered. 


	9. Kale and Beer

As Eldarion and Laurelin prepared to leave the valley the next morning, a sound echoed down the mountain wall. They looked up to where it had come from and saw a lone figure standing against the wind on a ledge overlooking the valley.  
  
"Hello there!" Eldarion called.  
  
Laurelin shaded her eyes against the sun. The figure wore a mail shirt like the Prince's. The figure was soon joined by a group of others. She could not make out what they were saying.  
  
"Come along," Eldarion said, "It is the other company of men I told you of,"  
  
Laurelin nodded as they began to trudge up the side of the valley, the group getting closer.  
  
"Eldarion!" She heard a man call, the one that had first spotted them, "Why you wily fox! Taking a short cut I see!"  
  
"Aye, sort of," Eldarion called back.  
  
There were about ten men, all dressed in Gondorian fashion. They looked much like the men of Eldarion's company.  
  
The man that had called walked forward and hugged Eldarion like they were old friends. He was very handsome, Laurelin noted; tall with broad shoulders and a square smile.  
  
"Eldarion, how have you been? And where is your grand company?" He asked, Laurelin hanging back, feeling awkward.  
  
Eldarion was silent for a moment, "I shall tell you what befell us once we return to camp, but for the time being I believe my comrade and I would like something to eat if you have anything,"  
  
"Oh of course, and who is this?" The Captain asked, turning his attention to Laurelin, his green eyes dancing with light. Laurelin felt her insides quiver and blushed as she looked down.  
  
"This is Morwen," Eldarion said indicating to Laurelin, "She joined us on our way through Rohan,"  
  
"Allow me to introduce myself," The man said walking up to her and taking her hand, "I am Kale, best friend and cousin to Eldarion over there."  
  
He bent down over her hand and brushed his lips over her fingers. Laurelin smiled. She had seen others do that to the grander ladies of Rohan and Gondor and had always quietly wished it would happen to her.

"It is very nice to meet you Kale," She said smiling wider by the minute, she liked this Kale.  
  
"In a while you shall tell us how you got into the company of this scoundrel," He said, grinning at Eldarion, "For now we must get back to our encampment. We are just a search party, looking for the next companies to come,"  
  
Laurelin walked between Kale and Eldarion as they talked over her. She remembered walking between Gimli and Legolas in the same fashion and smiled.  
  
They came to where they had left their horses. They had somehow managed to get the animals over the rocky outcrop of the mountains and onto the flat grassland of the middle part of the hills.  
  
Eldarion rode the extra horse and Laurelin sat in front of Kale on his horse. Kale held the reins in front of her lightly.  
  
"So Morwen, how did you ever convince your family to let you join the company?" He asked.  
  
"I didn't," She answered with a smile, "I ran away from home,"  
  
At that Kale laughed, "Now why did you do that?"  
  
"My parents were forcing me to marry someone I didn't even know," She answered.  
  
"That's terrible. I don't understand why people do that to their children. Especially considering how young you are. How old are you?"  
  
"Sixteen. How old are you?"  
  
Kale laughed louder, "I am twenty four,"  
  
The camp of the second Gondorian Company was bigger than what Eldarion's company had been. It stretched for quite a distance over the quiet middle lands of the hills.

"Do you all come from Gondor?" Laurelin asked looking about.  
  
"No, there are some from Rohan and other places as well." Kale answered stopping the horse in front of a tent. He dismounted and helped Laurelin down.  
  
"You both shall sup in my tent so we may learn what happened to your company," Kale said leading them in the tent.  
  
The inside of the tent looked much like Eldarion's had with a cot in the corner and a table in the middle with four chairs about it.

"Please," Kale said, "Have a seat and I shall have some food brought in,"  
  
Soon some bread and salted stag meat were brought in and set before Eldarion, Morwen and Kale. Kale sat back while Eldarion and Morwen hungrily devoured the food. When they were finished Kale sat back and chuckled, shaking his head.  
  
"Haven't eaten in a while eh?" He asked, taking a drink of beer from his mug.  
  
"Three days," Morwen answered, looking at her mug curiously. She had never had beer before.  
  
"Hmmm, I see," Kale said putting down his mug.  
  
Morwen suspiciously brought the mug to her lips and took a sip. It was good. She took a bigger drink. It was very good.  
  
"What happened to the company? Are you meeting them somewhere? Are you two scouts or something?" Kale asked.  
  
"No," Answered Eldarion solemnly, "No, we were attacked in Fangorn Forest by a battalion of orcs. None survived but three of us; myself, Morwen and a captain by the name of Rolen."  
  
Laurelin sat quietly listening, drinking her beer. She watched for expressions on Kale's face, but his face was blank of emotion.  
  
"Where is this captain now?" Kale inquired quietly.  
  
"He was killed three days ago when we were attacked by wargs." Eldarion answered evenly.  
  
Kale nodded looking down at the table, "Do you know what the orcs were doing in Fangorn when you were attacked?"  
  
"They were heading for Moria. I could not hear their reasons for doing so," Eldarion said.  
  
Laurelin looked down at her mug. It was empty. At the middle of the table was another pitcher of beer. She filled her mug again. Neither Kale nor Eldarion noticed.  
  
"Why would a battalion of orcs be heading for Moria?" Kale mused aloud.  
  
It was silent for a while. Laurelin emptied her mug for a second time. She felt odd. Everything was fuzzy and she couldn't comprehend what was happening. Then she felt a hiccup rise from her belly. When it came out both Kale and Eldarion looked over at her in surprise.  
  
"Morwen? Are you alright?" Eldarion asked.  
  
Laurelin looked over at him, "I don't know. What's wrong with me?" She asked, but her voice didn't sound like hers, and the words came out slow like she was just learning to talk.  
  
"How much beer did you have?" Eldarion asked looking down at her empty mug.  
  
"Two," Laurelin answered with an awkward shrug.  
  
Kale laughed out loud. Laurelin didn't know why but she laughed along with him, "I believe the lass liked the beer a little bit too much," He said slapping his knee.  
  
Laurelin then realized he was laughing at her or was he laughing at Eldarion? She felt like crying. She didn't know but whatever the after effect of having too much beer scared her. She began to weep, ashamed of herself for being so gluttonous. Kale stopped laughing.  
  
"Now Morwen," Eldarion said putting a hand on her shoulder, "There's no reason to cry,"  
  
"I," Laurelin began, "I was being greedy, and I'm tired and," She started to cry harder, as the events of all that had happened in the past few days took hold.  
  
She stood and began to walk out of the tent. Eldarion stood after her. She tripped and almost fell to the ground but Eldarion caught her before she could hit the grass.  
  
"Its alright," He said gathering her up in his arms as she wept, "I've got you."  
  
She clutched his shirt like she was a baby clinging to its mother.  
  
"Kale?" She heard Eldarion say.  
  
She saw Kale's tall form jot out in front of them through her tear stained eyes and lead them along the camp till they came to a tent in the middle. Eldarion set her on a cot inside the tent.  
  
"I don't know why I cried," she said, "I think I just want to sleep. Sleep is good very good you know,"  
  
"Hmmm," Replied Eldarion taking her boots off of her feet and throwing them into a corner.  
  
"Those were my father's boots," She said looking over at them as she lay down on the cot. Eldarion threw the blanket over her.  
  
"Sleep now," Eldarion said, brushing her hair from her face and kissing her on the forehead.

But Laurelin did not notice. She slept as the Prince crept quietly out of the tent.


	10. Captain

Laurelin awoke the next morning with a splitting headache. Everything seemed dim with pain. After a few hours of just lying on her cot, fighting the ache, it left as quickly as came.  
  
Laurelin stood from her cot. They had given her a notably larger tent than the other soldiers with a flap in front of the entrance for privacy. She saw in the corner a basin of water for washing. She walked over to it and splashed some of the water on her face. She looked into the water's surface once it had calmed. She looked terrible. She eyes were red and puffy from crying last night and the headache that morning. Her hair was in disarray. She brushed in the best she could with her fingers and decided that would have to do for the time being. She saw next to the basin a new set of clothing. She smiled with relief and happiness. It would be nice to have something new for a change. She dressed in the soldier's clothing, the leather soft on her sore skin. She tied her hair back with a leather cord she found among the folds of the tunic. She set her old clothing on her cot and put on her boots.  
  
The light of the sun irritated her eyes terribly, the rays tearing into her conscious like bee stings. In the glare she saw Kale and Eldarion approach. She suddenly felt embarrassed for her behavior the night before and kept her eyes to the ground.  
  
"Well, well! How do you feel today Morwen?" She heard Kale ask.  
  
Laurelin looked up, "Ghastly," she said and meant it.  
  
Kale laughed, "That happens, we'll just have to keep the beer out of your reach next time,"  
  
Laurelin shrugged, "You won't need to," She admitted, earning a laugh from both men.  
  
"You must come with Eldarion and I," He continued, "We are scouting out the area. From what Eldarion has told me, we should keep our eyes open for any unexpected visitors."  
  
Laurelin nodded and walked along side them, trying to keep up with their long stride. She had always been told she was tall, but now among such giants, she felt small.  
  
She was given her own horse this time. It was a dapple grey color with a speckled mane. It was gorgeous.  
  
"What's its name?" She asked stroking its grey velvet nose.  
  
"The king's Army usually doesn't name its horses," Kale said mounting his own horse, the one from the day before, "But you can name it if you wish."  
  
Laurelin thought for a moment looking into the horse's unusual blue eyes, "Belle," She said with a small smile, "Belle shall be her name,"  
  
Laurelin looked over at Kale and Eldarion for approval. Kale smiled widely then set to fixing his reins. Eldarion looked at her for a second, a strange grin on his face, then shook his head and turned his own black horse about.  
  
Laurelin had not realized that her cheeks had begun to burn brightly under Eldarion's gaze.  
  
"_What's the matter with me?_" She thought to herself, mounting the horse, "_I'm acting like a bashful scullery maid_." She held her head high as she led Belle in a trot after Kale and Eldarion, "_And I'm not a mere maid. I would dare to liken myself to a shield maiden_."  
  
Kale led them down a rocky outcrop. It was rough going and the sun beat down ravenously upon them. Nothing could be seen for miles.  
  
"Come along!" Called Kale behind him to his comrade, "Let me show you a spot my men and I found the other day."  
  
Curiosity rose in Laurelin's heart as she followed behind. They soon were following a lazy creek, flowing thick and brown. They entered somewhat of a forested area. They then came to a small glade, green with spring. It sloped gently, the little creek running along the edge of it. Kale led the horse to the creek's edge and dismounted. Eldarion and Laurelin followed suit. Laurelin let Belle wander along the grass and flowers, grazing as she went. Laurelin came to the water's edge and cupped some of the water in her hand. It was clear as glass. She swallowed deeply of it. She tasted every single rock and every single raindrop that it had ever flowed past or was drunk into its greedy rivulet.  
  
"Pretty isn't it?" Kale said looking out over the landscape.  
  
"Yes," Breathed Laurelin dropping her hands once again into the water.  
  
Kale crouched by the water running his fingers through it lightly. Laurelin looked over and saw Eldarion approach him from behind. She knew what was going to happen. She watched with amusement as he shoved Kale into the waterl. Kale came up sputtering like a drowning dog and shaking the water from his auburn hair. With a growl he lunged toward Eldarion and pulled him in, boots and all. Laurelin laughed as she watched them splash water at each other.  
  
"Good thing you don't have that pretty mail shirt on Eldarion!" She called out in delight, "You would have sunk straight to the bottom!"  
  
Immediately she had made a mistake by drawing attention to herself. Kale and Eldarion looked over at her.  
  
"Why Morwen!" Called Eldarion coming up to her, "You look surprisingly dry this morning!"  
  
"Oh no," She said backing up, "I plan on staying that way, thank you,"  
  
"Maybe you do, but I don't," He said and with one fell swoop picked her up and slung her over his shoulder.  
  
Laurelin screamed as Eldarion bounded back into the creek, Kale laughing all the while, and threw her into the water. The creek engulfed her, cold entering all her senses in a pleasant rush of liquid. She could have stayed under forever, suspended like a bird in air, but soon her lungs began to ache for new air.

"You monster!" She yelled coming to the surface smiling and laughing.  
  
She ran toward him splashing with Kale doing to the same.  
  
"Mercy!" Eldarion cried, laughing, "Mercy please, I beg of you!"  
  
"What is the meaning of this?!" Came a voice from behind them.  
  
They turned to see a dignified older looking man on a white horse. He looked like a high-ranking officer with more soldiers behind him on horse back.  
  
"Who are you and what are you doing away from the camp?" The man demanded.  
  
Kale and Eldarion stepped forward, "I am the commander of this regiment sir," Kale said, picking a leaf from his hair.  
  
"And I am Eldarion, son of the King Elessar," Said Eldarion in a much more dignified voice.  
  
Laurelin hung back behind the two men, hoping the officer on the horse would not notice her.  
  
"I see," Said the man dismounting, his grey hair glinting off the water's light, "What are you doing so far from camp. We might have been a battalion of orcs or other such nonsense. How might have you protected this young lady from harm?" He reprimanded.  
  
Laurelin felt her old temper flare up, "I would need no protecting sir," She said.  
  
Eldarion and Kale parted looking at her in amusement. The man eyed her as if she were a child,

"Oh, I see," He said walking to the bank's edge, "You would have just defended yourself against them with that impertinence and obvious rage of yours?"  
  
"She could've," Eldarion muttered, Kale smirking.  
  
Laurelin ignored them, "No," She answered, "I would defend myself as any other soldier would with strength and strategy."  
  
The officer seemed entertained by her answer but pressed her further, "And what makes you think that you are a soldier?"  
  
Eldarion answered before Laurelin could, "Because I made her one,"  
  
Now it was Laurelin's turn to be astonished. She looked over at Eldarion.  
  
"You did?" The officer asked, just as surprised as she.  
  
"Yes, I did a long time ago. She has fought bravely in battle and is one of my Captains," He continued, Laurelin's mouth dropping farther with every word.  
  
A Captain? She could have jumped to the sky and caught a cloud.  
  
"Oh," Mumbled the officer, looking down at his feet in embarrassment, "I am sorry, my lady. I apologize for I did not know-"  
  
"All is well," She interrupted, casting a smile over to Eldarion, "It occurs all the time."  
  
She had proven herself to the Prince. She felt as though her cheeks would burst she was smiling so wide. She had been heard this time and her answer counted. She had found a place where she mattered.


	11. The Dance

The pompous looking Captain turned out to be the commander of a battalion from southern Gondor. He wasn't as regal as he made himself seem. He escorted them back to the camp, for safety's sake according to him, and informed them the entire way of his strategies on attacking Moria. The sun was just beginning to set in the west. Kale, Eldarion and Laurelin were still soaking from the little incident at the stream. Laurelin shivered in the growing chill of twilight, riding Belle between Eldarion and Kale.  
  
Kale chuckled and looked over at the maid, "You remind me of someone," He said softly.  
  
Laurelin looked over at him puzzled, "Who?"  
  
"My sister, Myrcie. She actually visited the camp recently,"  
  
"Oh, is she a soldier of sorts?"  
  
"Yes, in a way," Kale answered looking off into the deepening light of dusk, "If you wish for some dry clothes I believe she left some here. They are gowns though. I hope you won't mind?"  
  
Laurelin smiled, "I would be honored to wear a gown of your sister's, anyway I am cold in these wet things."  
  
They made it back to the camp in once piece. Kale went to his tent and retrieved a beautiful yellow dress with a green girdle.  
  
She slipped the soft fabric over her head and tied the green leather belt around her waist. She noticed she had lost weight over the few weeks. She ran a soft brush through her hair. Her hair had lightened to a dark red now from being out in the sun all the time. If her hair was already this light, she wondered what it would be like in a couple of months.  
  
She stepped from the tent into the dying light of the sun, the sky stained pink and blue. She began to walk toward the fire where all the rest of the men were. As she neared she saw Eldarion and Kale talking together. Kale noticed her and smiled.  
  
"Hello there, Morwen!" Kale called running over to her, "I was just about to go around over to your tent and see if you needed escorting, considering you are now a Captain." He teased holding out his arm.  
  
Laurelin took it with a laugh, "I believe an escort could be arranged."  
  
They walked back over to where Eldarion and some other men were. Eldarion smiled.  
  
"How does it feel to be a Captain now, my dear Morwen?" He asked.  
  
"I am quite enjoying it," She answered, "Though I fear I not may look like one in this dress."  
  
Eldarion was silent for a moment then smiled, "That may be correct, Lady Morwen."  
  
"Sir Hiran! A song for the Lady's pleasure, if you do not mind" Kale called to a man with a lute standing nearby.  
  
Hiran nodded and began to blow a joyful melody on his flute. Another man nearby picked up his own fiddle and began to play only to be joined by another who drummed a beat upon a table with two wooden knives.  
  
"A dance for the lady Captain?" Kale inquired holding out his hand.  
  
Laurelin laughed and took it as he led her into the outer circle surrounding the large fire in the middle. They were soon joined by others, dancing inanely about, just drinking in the sensation of being alive and happy and all the good things that come with being human. Kale swirled her around, Laurelin laughing as the beat quickened. Laurelin looked over into the crowd of onlookers, clapping and laughing. One was not. Eldarion stood awkwardly in the middle of them, his big hands hung clumsily from his belt, looking about. Then Laurelin felt something for the prince she had never felt before. Pity.  
  
"Will you excuse me Kale?" she asked her dancing partner.  
  
"Course!" Kale answered jovially, "I was going over to get a mug of ale as it was."  
  
Laurelin smiled than walked over to Eldarion. The Prince grinned back as she approached.  
  
"Come dance with me!" Laurelin urged with a smile.  
  
"Oh, I don't know," Eldarion began, looking about uneasily, "I'd probably trip you up or something,"  
  
"Trip me up? My dear Eldarion; if the case of tripping up should arise I would probably be the one doing the tripping." Laurelin retorted with a chortle, taking Eldarion's hand and starting to drag him in, but Eldarion pulled back.  
  
"But you see, I," He started again, "I can't dance."  
  
Laurelin looked at him then laughed out loud, "You have to be kidding! You're the prince, you were born to dance, and give speeches, and go into battle and such. How can you not know how to dance?"  
  
Eldarion withdrew his hand, "I just don't,"  
  
He suddenly looked like a hurt little boy, recoiling at Laurelin's harsh reply and laughter. Laurelin suddenly felt guilty for teasing him.  
  
Laurelin took his hand again, "I'll teach you then." She said and dragged him into the rotating circle of rejoicing dancers before he could say anymore.  
  
"Now all you have to do is do what everyone else is doing," Laurelin instructed.  
  
Eldarion looked about, "Considering half of them are drunk, that would be bouncing about without a care."  
  
"Exactly," Laurelin agreed putting one hand on his shoulder then taking his fingers in her other hand, "Now you just spin in circles!" She said with a chuckle.  
  
"Oh like this?" Eldarion inquired, wrapping his free hand around her waist and lifting her so her feet just grazed the ground.  
  
Twirling about, Laurelin felt weightless, Eldarion's arms holding her from the ground. She wondered why she did not feel repulsion anymore when she was around the prince. She remembered back to when just looking at him gave her a stomachache. Now, dancing with him, she didn't feel revolted at all, even with his hand in hers.  
  
Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a horn; it was the look out's signal. Something had been seen.

Everyone stood still, the music had stopped now. Laurelin looked up at Eldarion. He stood silent and tense. This was serious. The other company was not scheduled to come in till the day after tomorrow. This was not the company.  
  
Suddenly, a winded man ran into the camp. Agitated soldiers soon surrounded him. Laurelin and Eldarion drew closer to the crowd. Questions were shot at the poor soldier faster then he could breathe.  
  
"Back up men!" Kale said, coming up and pushing everyone back from the panting look out.  
  
"Orcs," The man sputtered, "Orcs this way,"  
  
"Get to your posts men, get your weapons!" Eldarion called, suddenly taking charge, "Go get you sword Morwen," He said turning to her, "You may be more skilled with a bow but the sword will protect you better in hand to hand combat."  
  
Laurelin nodded and sped off in the direction of her tent, blood coursing through her veins. Battle always made her feel dizzy, even though she had only been in it once. Suddenly, as she reached the tent, a barrage of arrows flew out from the sky, flaming bright red and orange. She saw one hit the roof of her tent. She thought she heard someone call her name as she ran into the tent, the roof beginning to go up in flames. She had to get her sword; she would not be in that long.

The tent was filled with smoke. A wave of it hit her face making her eyes sting, nostrils and mouth fill with the rancid smell of it, and lungs recoil at the taste of it. Putting her hand in front of her eyes she fought her way through the tent. She grabbed her sword and started back when she heard a crack. She looked up to see the supporting beam begin to fall. Laurelin screamed as the wood hit her, and everything went black.


	12. Confessions

Laurelin felt as though she was floating. White clouds seemed to surround her as she felt herself fly over the earth. She looked down below her at the mortals below. Everyone was fighting and killing; orcs, men, elves, dwarves, all of them. Though they were all as different as anything they still all held a common bond, they had to share this Middle Earth together."Morwen, please." Came Eldarion's voice into her dream, "You must wake up,"  
  
The blue began to fade then, along with the rest of the dream. The black began to drink Laurelin again back into its warm dark arms.  
  
Something wet was dragged across her forehead. The moisture soaked into her parched skin that burned with pain. It hurt so much. Laurelin struggled to open her eyes.  
  
"What, where am I?" She asked, trying to command her eyelids to open.  
  
"You're in the sick tent, well a sick tent. We managed to get you a private one." Came Kale's voice.  
  
Laurelin managed to open her eyes a slit. It was morning; the sun was riding low in the east, its golden rays cascading through the tent door, spraying upon Kale's fair head. He was so different from Eldarion it was almost comical that two such men would be friends, much less related.  
  
"What were you thinking anyway running into that tent?" Kale inquired with a grin.  
  
Laurelin chuckled softly but it hurt to laugh, "I don't know. What happened to me?"  
  
Kale leaned back in his chair, "When you ran into that burning tent, someone saw you and ran after you. You got quite a bad knock on the head, though. Then, much to our surprise and relief, who should come up upon our attacked and burning camp but the Silvan Elf company we were expecting a few days from now! The orcs were defeated, and we had to fight for your own sick tent! Eldarion should be back in a bit. I told him to go get some rest. He's barely left your side."  
  
Laurelin smiled softly, just as the tent flap was thrown open. Eldarion walked in, his hair was combed in place and it looked as though he had shaved.  
  
"Good," Laurelin thought with a grin, "He was beginning to look like a bear."  
  
"You're awake!" Eldarion said smiling and closing the flap door.  
  
"Yes, your highness" Laurelin said, trying to sit up a bit in bed, "Just barely."  
  
"Well that's good, because I was just talking with the leader of that second company. He informed me that the captains are to meet tomorrow to talk of strategies. Do you believe you will be well enough to attend?" Eldarion asked walking over to her bedside.  
  
"Yes, I believe I shall be well by then," Laurelin replied rubbing her head as if trying to brush away the ache.  
  
"Good, I must be going now," Eldarion said smiling weakly at her, "I must see to the other men,"  
  
And with that he left.  
  
"Man of few words," Kale said pouring her a cup of water, "He's always been that way. Even as a child."  
  
Laurelin grinned at the thought of Eldarion as a child. It was almost impossible to imagine him running about, pretending to be off on great adventures, catching frogs and butterflies, even getting in trouble. Little Eldarion must have been quite a character to have few words for those activities; she knew she never had had enough.  
  
Kale handed her the cup with the water and she drank it greedily.  
  
"Who is the leader of this third Company of elves?" She asked looking up at Kale.  
  
"Oh, he's interesting, as far as elves go. From Mirkwood, I believe. He's serious, but nothing like Eldarion in that sense."  
  
"Just what we needed; another statue." Laurelin said with a smile.  
  
Kale chuckled loudly.

* * *

Kale walked out of Morwen's tent into the mid morning sun. He had been told that she must get some rest and he agreed whole-heartedly. He walked briskly down the row of tents, most of which were just scarred, charcoal remains, till he found Eldarion. He sat beneath a tree looking at a map in his hands, the breeze making the worn brown paper flutter in his hands.  
  
"Well, your highness, how fares the company?" Kale asked coming up beside the prince and sitting beside him, his back to the trunk of the tree.  
  
"As well as expected, cousin. It seems as though we did not lose as many as first thought, though many were injured." Eldarion said gravely.  
  
"Yes but those injured will heal and are seething in their sick beds, wanting to get back into battle." Kale answered lightly with a chortle.  
  
"Will you think seriously for a moment?" Eldarion said harshly looking up from his map, "Do you really believe we can build up our men's hopes in just a few short weeks time as well as their bodies? If that second legion of elves from Mirkwood does not arrive soon we shall have to leave to meet the dwarves with only two and a half companies of our own and you know that is not enough to launch an attack upon Moria."  
  
Eldarion stood up rubbing his forehead, worry creased his brow. Kale sat silent staring at the ground.  
  
"Something else troubles you, does it not?" Kale asked still staring at the charred gravel.  
  
Eldarion looked up at his cousin, "What do you mean?"  
  
Kale glanced up, "Why did you not want me to tell Morwen that it was you who saved her? We have known each other since we were children and you have never acted like this before."  
  
Eldarion let out a loud sigh and put his back against the tree next to Kale, "I know not, it's just," He looked off into the sun.  
  
"It's your impending matrimony with the child bride, and...Morwen, is it not?" Kale inquired.  
  
Eldarion knelt down, rolling the map up and tying the leather strap, "If I pursue a relationship with Morwen outside of captain to captain, it may lead to something that may hurt one or both of us." He stood, tucking the map into his belt.  
  
Kale nodded and rose to his feet, "I see." was all he could and would say on the subject.  
  
"Now let us ready for the captain meeting on the morrow." Eldarion commented starting down the dusty road, Kale following behind and wondering where this would all lead to.


	13. Worries for Morning

Laurelin sat up on her elbows softly. She still got dizzy sometimes and it was hard to keep a straight head when the world was spinning around you. But recently it had been getting better. She slid her legs over the side of the cot and walked over to the chair by her bed as carefully as possible. Things were still a bit disoriented. Picking up her tunic from the chair, she slipped it over her head and walked cautiously from her room out into the night air.

The cool late spring moon was a tiny dying sliver in the sky, winking down to the mortals below; a final farewell for the May moon. Laurelin wrapped her arms around her waist and headed out a bit further into the thin mountain air. A breeze reached through the folds of her clothing with icy fingers. Laurelin thought of Linad and smiled. Her horse would have been home by now, well fed, warm, happy.

Her bare feet tested the ground as they led her to the makeshift stables, erected when the fires had burned down the original shed that kept them. Now a large tent served as the shelter for the horses. The smell of hay and earth filled her mouth as she opened the flap, her smile widening when she saw the horse she now called her own standing right by the door. Belle was silver in the soft glow of the stars and her eyes turned dark without daylight. Laurelin's smiled grew wider as she stroked the muzzle of the animal, her arms and legs breaking out in goose bumps at being so near to such a powerful animal.

"Hello there," She spoke softly, the ears of the horse perking at the sound of her voice, "How are you girl? How are you doing?"

"You mean boy," Came an anonymous voice from the back of the tent.

Laurelin jumped and peered into the shadows, "Who is it?"

From the dim gray shade, Eldarion emerged from the mess of the silhouetted horses. A soft grin played at the edges of his lips.

Laurelin inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. She had become extremely wary of shadows and things that lurked therein.

"Good Evening, sire," She replied, noticing that they creases in the Prince's normally furrowed brow were not there, "What brings you out here?"

The prince shrugged and came up beside her, patting the patient horse on the nose absentmindedly, "What anybody goes to the stables for, for peace, thoughtfulness, solitude," He accentuated the word solitude and looked over at her with a grin.

"Well if you want me to go that's fine," Laurelin said, beginning to turn her nearest foot to the door, "I completely under-"

"No no no," The Prince interrupted, his mouth forming a silent 'o', "I was just teasing you, Morwen."

"Teasing? Since when does Prince Eldarion tease?"

He then uttered that laugh she had grown to love and hate at the same time. It wasn't the loud, thunderous shout that Kale omitted, or the rolling chuckle, like that of a log rolling down a hill, that Rolen had released. It was quiet, and you almost didn't realize that he was laughing till he was over and once again, silent and statuesque. But this time, instead of it annoying her, Laurelin found her listening intently to the shaking breaths and wanting more, like a thirsty man in the desert, not getting enough water to sustain him.

"There had been many new changes in my life, Morwen, and you, being my greatest critic ought to have known that," He replied, as she began to pat the mane of the horse once again, watching the animal's mane rise and fall with its breaths.

"Aye, I believe your right," She replied, "I guess I've just been slacking off lately."

A silence passed over, but there was no urgency for speech. Neither parties spoke, as they listened to the steady and continuous breaths of the horses beat in harmony with the breeze outside. It was an understanding silence, with words of its own.

"Morwen, I wanted to apologize for my behavior when we first met," The quiet shattered into a thousand glass pieces as Eldarion spoke, "I was not the most gentlemanly of characters at the point in time. I guess the whole thought of commanding my own host at such a young age had gotten to my head." He chuckled, "Obviously, I wasn't ready for the responsibility. I have neither the experience nor the skill."

"No don't say that," Laurelin protested, looking over at the Prince, "You have the skill, but as you said, you're young. And experience perfects skill. Your only 22 years,"

The prince laid his own hand on the horses mane, staring at the watery locks in his fingers, "You're right, as usual," He replied, earning a grin from Laurelin.

"I should apologize as well. I walked in there like I owned your host. I was so eager and immature. But I have learned to control my temper, maybe someday I will tame it and become as docile as everybody else wants me to be," She said with a chuckle.

"No," Eldarion said quietly, his hand releasing the horse's mane and trailing over to her own pale hand, taking her fingers in his, "No Morwen, never change. Your temper, your passion, never lose it, never break it."

Laurelin became conscious of their hands intertwined and looked over at him warily. He was gazing at her hand as if it were a bird, something so fragile and rare that he was terrified he would hurt it. He took it in his other hand, cradling her worn fingers.

"Don't ever change, Morwen,"

He looked up at her, his eyes dark with something she did not recognize. She didn't understand. How could they be like this now? They had hated each other, pure hatred; the kind that cannot be broken a few weeks before. Now they stood together, at peace. There was something else as well now, and it surprised her greatly.

The thought came as Eldarion's hand reached up to her face and stroked her cheek, ivory with the lack of sunlight for the past few days. The thought cleared further, and straightened as he leant forward, closer to her mouth. Her breath became heavier; not knowing what was coming over her. This was the man she was supposed to despise. She was being forced to marry him in that other life, and now she was compliant to him in this one. She stopped breathing when his lips found hers, and his arms wrapped around her waist. She was a walking contradiction, and she knew it. So it didn't hurt or help any as she trailed her own hands to his shoulders. Accepting, welcoming, and confusing her even more. The kiss deepened, as did her feelings.

She knew she would wake up the next morning and scold herself for her behavior. She was acting like a loose scullery maid. But tonight, not this evening.

In the morning she would worry about it, but not now.

* * *

Morning came, finding the field, the grass and flowers crushed around their sleeping bodies. Laurelin's eyes fluttered open, Eldarion's arm wrapped around her shoulders. He was still sleeping, his hair catching glances from the morning sun, jealous of Laurelin's half elven prize, her beautiful reminder of humanity.

Her body felt whole again. She was warm even with dew dampening her skin and the thin cloth of her sleeping garment softly. Her fingers listlessly trailed up the opening in the prince's tunic, tracing her fingers on his skin, sliding over the worked chest muscles hidden beneath. She smiled and dug her head deeper into his side. She felt Eldarion's hand stir and begin to make small circles on her side, trailing long sweeps up and down her back, along her thigh and up to her breasts where they discreetly stopped.

"I hate mornings," Came his voice, his eyes still closed, "I really do,"

This made her laugh slightly, "I love them," She replied, "They're my favorite part of the day." She played with a tie on his shirt casually, as her eyelids drifted shut once more.

Eldarion grunted and shifted, bringing his other arm from behind his head where it had been to wrap itself around her. She knew he was waiting for her to open her eyes, but she decided to pretend not to notice. She felt his breath blow a stray curl from her face and his fingers trace her earlobe absentmindedly. He brought his face close to hers and lightly touched her forehead with his lips, then trail them down her cheek. It was hardly a kiss, you couldn't call it that, it was something infinitely deeper and more pure and it made her smile even wider, his mouth finally finding hers. At that she opened her eyes as they parted. His eyes reminded her of silver, not a dreary gray but something alive and breathing. She grinned as she noticed his ears. They were fairly normal, except for the fact that they were ever so slightly pointed. She would tease him about them later, but not now. No, not now.

But the sun was getting higher and they were expecting the last host to come in a while. Frowning, she tried to untangle herself from his embrace.

"What? Where are you going?" He asked, trying to keep her imprisoned in his arms. Oh how she wanted to stay there for eternity, but sighing faintly, she sat up.

"We had better be getting back to the camp," She replied, "We have work to do and we don't want people to talk,"

She looked back over at him where he lay still, propped up on his elbow. They both looked in disarray.

"You're right," He replied, sitting up, setting his arms on his knees, "We can't have rumors,"

"No," She commented, standing, "Not with your blushing bride waiting at home," She laughed, at what was known and unknown.

Eldarion smiled along with her sadly. She did reply. There could be nothing between them, ever. Even if she was the one he would have married, she could never do it. After her display, King Ellesar and Queen Arwen had probably already found another suitor for him. A smile played on her face remembering it. It seemed so far away. What a mess she had gotten herself into. A snarled, heaping mess that would never be solved it seemed, sitting there in a field green with more than grass and spring.

"I had better go back first," Laurelin said, breaking the silence into a thousand pieces that were scattered to the breeze, "Then you can follow in a few moments."

She bent down to grab her tunic and slipped it over her head and she began to walk away, quickening her pace as the sun seemed to race her to the sleeping camp.

She had been an idiot, she realized that now, in the sunlight where everything makes sense. She had let herself lose sanity the night before and not she was going to suffer the consequences whatever that may be.

She reached her tent and disappeared in it. Eldarion followed soon after.

They did not know that the final host that would help in the retaking of Moria had arrived in the early morning hours, archers and swordsmen from Mirkwood, led by the Prince of the last remaining elf settlement in Middle Earth.

Neither knew they had been seen as well, but a pair of familiar elvish eyes.

* * *

The medicinal soldier was amazed at Laurelin's recovery and allowed her to attend the meeting of the captains that had previously been scheduled for that evening.

Pulling her clean tunic over her head and lacing up the crotch of her leggings, a voice outside her tent sounded.

"Captain Morwen?" It was Kale, "Are you decent?"

Tying off the leather straps, she tucked her hair behind her ear and looked toward the door, "Yes, you may enter,"

Kale strode into the tent, the gold stubble that had recently littered his unshaved chin was absent this morning and his hair was held back in a leather tie behind his head, the curls brushing the base of his neck. Laurelin had to admit, though Eldarion had a mystique of his own, Kale was definitely the better looking of the two.

Laurelin smiled, "Good morning, Kale," She asked, sitting down on her bed and slipping her boots onto her feet.

They had given her a new pair but she still insisted on wear her father's old pair even if they were too big for her. It gave her stability and she had given up on trying to forget her past life. It was something that had happened and she couldn't help it, but she wouldn't let it spoil the new life she was trying to build around her ruined city.

"The gathered Captains are having our meeting early," Kale informed her sitting down on a nearby chair and inspecting his fingernails.

"Why? The last host isn't expected to come in till late this afternoon," She asked looking up from her boots and resting her elbows on her knees.

"Well, my dear Morwen," Kale answered with a smile, "Elves are not the kind of beings to be punctual; they are always early, no matter what,"

"Elves?" She asked with a smile, "There's a legion of elves aiding dwarves?"

"Well not willingly, mind you," Kale stood and walked to the tent flap, opening it for a second to gaze out into the growing light and busy camp, "But they are from Mirkwood, and their Prince, Legolas Greenleaf, is a forward thinker. He believes that dwarves and elves should find common ground and create allegiances. He convinced his father that this was the prime opportunity."

Laurelin felt her heart jump up to her throat and looked up at him in alarm, "Legolas Greenleaf?" She asked, "From Mirkwood?"

"Yes," Kale said casually glancing over at Laurelin who sat on her cot, her face like that of a deer caught in the way of a hunter, "Do you know of him?" He asked, "Are you alright?" He was curious about the change in her manner after he had mentioned the Elf Prince.

Laurelin forced her body to cut the surge of alarmed adrenaline that pulsed through her veins and looked up at Kale a bit shaken, "Oh yes, I'm fine, I've just never met an elf before," She lied apprehensively.

"Oh," Kale said with a grin, "Well I can introduce you if-"

"No!" She interrupted abruptly, surprising the already baffled Kale, "No, I don't think that would do. I wouldn't know what to say and I'm not grand enough to meet someone like that,"

Kale looked at her, trying to figure out her sudden change in mood, but smiled slightly, "I understand," He crossed his arms across his chest and looked up at her with green eyes, "So I'll see you at the meeting?"

Laurelin bit her lip and nodded, "Aye, you shall,"

"Alright then, till later Morwen," And with that he left the stuffy tent, leaving Laurelin to her frenzied thoughts and the last syllable of her alias, her lie.

She knew she would have to face her demons at some point, but not in this form.


	14. Elvish Games

The road was long and Prince Legolas of Mirkwood was weary of the dust and sun that choked him and his companion's path. He and his fellow Lords had gone ahead of their troops, hoping to reach the rendezvous point with the Lords from Lothlorien by dusk. They were only a few miles away.  
  
"My Lords, let us have a game to pass the time," Spoke Morcertar, a dark young elf with a laugh like Tulkas and just as much energy.  
  
"What sort of game?" Questioned Lord Comare, who was generally a very serious and clear thinking elf, but had taken kindly to the young and vigorous Morcertar.  
  
"I think a race would be in order, do you not agree, your highness," Pondered Morcertar, bringing his horse to a trot.  
  
A smile burst across Legolas's fair face and met Morcertar's challenge by bringing his own steed to a gallop. Morcertar's loud and bounding laugh echoed as he and Legolas sped down the road. Comare followed behind at a canter, his silver curls flying behind in the wind as they kicked up the dirt of the road into the air.  
  
Indeed it did bring the day to a fine end, and they ended their race at the meeting point just outside the eaves of Fangorn, where the elves of Lorien had already assembled and were waiting.  
  
"A fine win, I dare say," Spoke Morcertar loudly, dismounting.  
  
"Win? Did I hear the word 'win' seep from your lips, my Lord?" Said Comare, "Nay, tis I who beat you and my prince,"  
  
"What do you speak of?" Protested Legolas, "I belted you both. It is well known that my horse is the fastest in the whole of Greenwood,"  
  
"Then I may wonder why you were not here at the appointed time?" Spoke a new voice, not heard as of yet.  
  
The Lords turned to see three elves standing in the light of fires and stars that were above and about them.  
  
"I believe this is time agreed with my father and the Lords of Lorien," Said Legolas, stepping forward.  
  
"You were said to be here by dusk. It has been several hours since the sun set into the mountains," Said the elf.  
  
She stood tall, with the fair hair of her kind and sharp eyes that pierced the heart of many a foe and friend. She was clad in the dress of the archers of Lorien, her locks lying on her shoulders.  
  
"Apologies, my Lady," Said Legolas putting his hand to his heart as a sign of respect, "May I introduce myself and my companions. This is Lord Morcertar and Lord Comare, and I am Prince Legolas of the Woodland realm."  
  
The fair elf returned the sign of respect and bowed, "My Lord, I am Lady Mithliriel, daughter of Haldir, former March Warden of Galadhrim of Lorien. This is my own daughter, Lady Hrívëwen, and my brother Lord Anordil."  
  
Lady Mithliriel's brother was likened to her in the face, though his hair was more of his father's color, silver like the dawn. Her daughter, however, looked nothing like her mother or uncle. Her fiery locks were a rare color for elves, being of the same tone as the sun during the summer. Her green eyes seemed to burn in the light of the moon.  
  
"Daughter of the Former March Warden?" Questioned Legolas, "Where is Haldir?"  
  
"He went into the west a few months ago," Replied Mithliriel, "My mother's death caused him to despair greatly. It was for the best."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Spoke Morcertar, who had lost his own father to grief a few years before. Legolas noticed how the young elf's eyes seemed to linger long on the Granddaughter of Haldir and he smirked slightly.  
  
"Thank you," Replied Mithliriel, "But now is not the time for talk. We must ride hard now. The mountains await."  
  
The elves were already collecting camp as the Lord of Mirkwood walked their horses through the dissembling camp of ashes and voices.  
  
"We ride till the morning," Spoke Lady Mithliriel, "By then we should reach the Gondorian Camp,"  
  
Legolas had to admit his blooming respect for the cold, fair elf archeress, and he wondered who her spouse was as he mounted his steed after they both had gotten a drink of water. It was a silvery stream where they drank, born of snow and sun. By the creek grew a slender tree which caught the Prince's attention. Within its bark was embedded an arrow that was spilt by another.  
  
He wondered who had been here before as he mounted his horse and led it toward the departing company. 


	15. Meetings of Elves and Men

Kale and Eldarion came to fetch her at mid noon for the meeting.  
  
Kale suspected nothing for Laurelin and Eldarion acted as if night had never come between them and were ignorant of each other's secrets that had been uttered in the pollen scattered air and had written ballads and sonnets as grand as the stars on each other's bodies. Like Laurelin had thought to herself, it was an incident that could never, ever be repeated lest she would be forced to hang up her bow and arrow and resign herself from shieldmaidenhood as her mother had. Much less, she would also have to tell the truth which was something impossible at that point.  
  
"How big is this elf legion?" She questioned, fingering the dagger at her waist as she walked with the two men toward the large tent in the middle of the camp.  
  
"About 300," Answered Eldarion, blinking into the sun.  
  
"So that would make how many in all?" She asked.  
  
"With both hosts from Gondor, and the elf legion, that would make around 1,000, not counting our dwarf friends," Calculated Kale as they reached the tent.  
  
"That is not much," She commented under her breath to Kale, after Eldarion had ducking into the tent.  
  
"We had been expecting more, but with your legion lost it brought the numbers down. Also, the men are superstitious; they do not want to go into Moria for fear of demons and ghosts." He replied, "Do not mention any of this in there, we must seem to know what were doing,"  
  
"Don't we?" She asked looking at Kale inquisitively,  
  
Kale gave her a look that made her second guess the confidence the Gondorian army portrayed as he followed Eldarion into the canvas tent. Laurelin wanted to run from there and go out to the stream in the meadow, go out from there to anywhere. However, she knew that whatever was in that tent, she was going to have to face sooner or later and it was better to be sooner. She ducked into the tent.  
  
The air was close, the sun's harsh glare seemed directed to the pavilion, causing the men to sweat and breathe deeply underneath their leather armaments, displaying the tree of Gondor on their chests, and the elves from the Woodland Realm shift uncomfortably in their seats, their hair shimmering like golden red waves in the humid air. Fair faces impatient with the noonday sun and the small amount of troops assembled. Also assisting the dwarves probably did not liven their spirits much either.  
  
"My Lords, the Captains Kale and Morwen," Announced a soldier who stood by the entrance.  
  
Kale nodded a greeting, Laurelin doing the same but keeping her eyes down, she had to at least try to conceal her identity.  
  
"Is that the last of your captains, Eldarion," Spoke a familiar voice.  
  
Laurelin cringed at the sound of her dear friend Legolas's voice for the first time in her life since he had found her in her mother's stable, communing with a rather feisty horse she knew she wasn't allowed around.  
  
"Yes, your highness," Eldarion spoke respectfully.  
  
"Then I believe we must introduce ourselves," Legolas said, "I am Legolas, son of Thranduil of the Woodland realm," His voice drove deeper and deeper into Laurelin's chest, "This is Lord Morcertar, and Lord Comare who have come with me from Mirkwood,"  
  
"And I am Lady Mithliriel of Lothlorien," Spoke a cold yet fair voice, "And this is my daughter Lady Hrívëwen, and Lord Anordil."  
  
Laurelin looked up at the elves quickly. They were all lovely; Lord Anordil was especially handsome, as was Lord Morcertar. She avoided Legolas's eye, but he seemed to ignore her expertly. She felt comfortable enough to gaze at the lady elves as well. The mother and daughter. They were both phenomenally beautiful, and it seemed as though Kale caught his breath beside her when Lady Hrívëwen looked his way. Her deep crimson hair was pulled back in a shiny braid. Her deep green garments matched her eyes which reminded Laurelin of an aging pine tree. The Lady Mithliriel was grand and elegant with sharp eyes like pieces of ice cut in an angry stream, snowy blonde locks spilling onto her shoulders.  
  
At that point Legolas looked up and met Laurelin's eyes. Her heart stopped and she prayed he would not recognize her. Yet no remembrance came into his eyes and nothing passed and he looked over at Kale. She let out her breath and relaxed a bit.  
  
"Our host from Mirkwood will arrive at sundown," Said Lord Comare, "Then we may start at dawn for our meeting point for the dwarves,"  
  
"We were expecting more men that those that have gathered here," Spoke Lady Mithliriel, "Why is there no third company from Gondor,"  
  
"This is what distresses me," Said Eldarion, "I was the Captain of that host and we were in the eaves of Fangorn when we were attacked, all being killed except for myself and Captain Morwen. It seems we will have some more resistance at Moria than what we originally thought,"  
  
"Resistance?" Said Morcertar, "Is there not just a few orcs that linger in those halls now? What kind of resistance could that be now that the balrog has been vanquished?"  
  
"We know not, but I fear we may be met with more than what we bargained for," Laurelin said finally speaking up, "In Rohan, we have seen many a fell beasts come through our lands, we must be on our guard,"  
  
"But Sauron and his dominions were defeated, I was there at the fields of Cormallen, and have seen much more then you," Said Morcertar, "My Lady Morwen, you must be mistaken, we have nothing to fear of outside forces only those within which are not much trouble either,"  
  
"Not much trouble?" Laurelin said firmly to the cocky elf lord, "For one who has lived many lives and seen many battles, you must know that it is foolhardy to underestimate any of the enemy's underlings, may he be defeated or victorious,"  
  
"Its not just 'a few orcs', Morcertar," Replied Legolas, looking at all that sat in the tent, "I have been there in the depths of that mine, and more than a balrog and a few orcs met us there, I believe we must take Prince Eldarion and Lady Morwen's word not for granted,"  
  
"There has been news of foul creatures limping through the edges of Lorien," Said Lady Hrívëwen, "We have slain most, but they come from the ruins of Mordor,"  
  
"You speak truth, my lady," Lord Comare said sternly, "We must not take these warnings so lightly. Diligence and alertness must be demanded of our troops."  
  
"I agree," Lord Anordil commented, "I think we all do,"  
  
No one disagreed.  
  
"We must not be careless, for it may result in unwanted incidents," Said Legolas, "We must be cautious. We ride at dawn,"  
  
And so it was decided. Elves and Men filed out of the tent and into the cool, unsuppressed air outside.  
  
"Morwen," Called Kale, "Will you not come have some food?"  
  
"No my Lord," Laurelin replied, "I feel faint and must get back to the medicinal tent before my caretaker gets impatient,"  
  
Kale nodded with a smile and followed Eldarion back to the fires lit in the heat of the day.  
  
Laurelin felt uneasy. Why hadn't Legolas acknowledged her? Did he not recognize her? What was happening?  
  
She arrived at her tent, the dust mixing with sweat on her forehead. She was about to enter the tent when a voice drew her away.  
  
"Morcertar will have to learn that you do not bend easily," Said a voice, drawing Laurelin's gaze to meet Legolas's where he stood beside the tent.  
  
"Excuse me, my lord," Laurelin asked, trying to cover up her tracks, though she knew she was caught.  
  
"Do not play ignorant with my, My Lady Laurelin," He said, arching his eyebrows at her.  
  
Laurelin looked around to make sure no one had heard her true name spoken, then without a word, dragged the elf prince into her tent.  
  
"Legolas, you must not anything," She said in an urgent whisper once they were within the tents, "You mustn't, it would ruin all,"  
  
"So this is where you have been?" He said, anger edging on his voice, "Your parents have been hysterical, as have I and Gimli and all the others who care for you. Laurelin, what are you doing here?"  
  
Guilt crept up on her but Laurelin pushed it back and glared at the elf, "I told you I was going far away from everyone that evening; I wanted to live my own life by my own terms. I don't want to marry or settle down, Legolas, can't you see that? I am not my mother,"  
  
The clouds cleared in the elf's blue eyes and he shrugged his shoulders, "I understand, I was against the whole situation in the first place. But can't you see? It was for the best for both kingdoms, Rohan and Gondor. Since Eomer's wife has birthed only sons, it was for the better of both kingdoms."  
  
Tired of fighting and not wanting to give up her newly attained life at the same time, she collapsed onto a chair and put her head in her hands wearily, "I'm not my kingdom, it can be connected some other way,"  
  
"You know your mother used to be exactly like you," He said sitting down beside her, "And she's happily married with a beautiful daughter,"  
  
"I can't marry him now," Laurelin said, "He knows me as Captain Morwen, the runway from Rohan, not the Daughter of Faramir and Eowyn of Ithilien,"  
  
"I'm not saying that you should marry him," Legolas said quietly, "Just to go home before you cause yourself grief or your parents anymore,"  
  
"How could I cause myself grief?" She asked looking up at him.  
  
He gave her an understanding gaze, "I see more than you think. You look at him differently than any other captain, don't think I don't know, my lady,"  
  
"Its my problem, and I won't get hurt," She said standing, "I'll make a deal with you Legolas,"  
  
Legolas stood and took the seat where she had been sitting and gazed knowingly at her, "And what is that?"  
  
"Legolas, after the siege of Moria, if I still live, I will go back to my mother and father. If I am slain, tell them that their daughter died bravely. But in the meantime keep my identity secret," She said, crossing her arms over her stomach.  
  
Legolas nodded, "Fine, I shall keep my end and you shall keep yours,"  
  
Laurelin sighed with relief, "Fine, then I shall see you at dinner,"  
  
"Yes, you shall," Said Legolas standing and heading to the tent flap, he took her hand and kissed her calloused knuckles, "Farewell for now, little sister,"  
  
Laurelin smiled a true smile, "Farewell,"  
  
And with that the elf left the tent, leaving Laurelin to weep tears of guilt for her mother and father. She would make this up to them someday. 


	16. Truth Breeching

Voices drifted in the thin dark air as Laurelin made her way to the cooking fires. She was very hungry and the smell of the meal being prepared more than ten feet away from her tent nearly drove her to insanity. She had been reluctant to see Legolas again, shame chaining her to her quarters for most of the day. But now as the sun disappeared into the west, she emerged to find the camp strictly divided. The host of elves had arrived and now the mortals watched them with wary eyes, while the fair ones held a gaze that mingled disgust with superiority.

The men sat around the fire, the elves standing away from them. The only elves that had ventured into conversation with mortals were Morcertar, Legolas and Anordil who talked with the other captains. Neither men nor elves spoke with Lady Mithliriel and her daughter. They both had an intimidating air about them. It seemed to Laurelin that they held ancient spirits, older than many of their other kin. Perhaps going back to Beleriand and the glory age of the fair folk in Middle Earth. Even though they were younger than some of the others there, because of their obvious history, they held power over the others in their company.

It made Laurelin think of how Eldarion had held rank over Rolen because of his heritage, even though Rolen had lived many more years than the prince.

"Morwen!" Cried Kale as he walked over to her, clapping her on the back and handing her a bowl of stew, "Did your care taker decide to hold you in all day?"

"No," She said with a smile, taking the bowl as they walked over to the fire, "I just fell asleep,"

Eldarion, who sat by the fire, glanced up at her slightly. The firelight shimmered on his dark hair that hung in waves to his shoulders. Grey eyes slid over her face quietly, and she could feel them as she stared into the flames. They were full of forced distance, and unread feelings, like the sky before a storm, trying to decided whether to rain or shine in those depths.

Laurelin held his gaze for a moment, then looked away.

They couldn't have rumors, not now.

"When do we ride out, your highness?" Came the voice of one of the soldiers nearby.

"With the dawn," Eldarion spoke evenly.

Laurelin stared at her stew. She heard Eldarion pour out his own meal onto the ground and rise from his seat.

"Turning in early, Eldarion?" Kale asked, sitting beside Laurelin.

"Yes," He answered curtly, making his way out into the dark.

Laurelin continued to stare at the flames ahead of her. She suddenly wasn't hungry anymore.

"Not his usual jovial self, I see," Kale mumbled sarcastically, looking over at Laurelin with a smile.

He was puzzled by her mood. She hadn't even noticed him. What could have gotten into everyone? Kale guessed that the coming morning and thoughts of Moria had disturbed their well being. Without a word, Laurelin poured out her own meal. After biding Kale good night, she made her way out into the darkness.

Though it seemed to her that life was well, the future worried her. The attack upon Moria was sure to bring many casualties if the rumors of war were true. Perhaps she would be among the fallen by the next evening. What would happen if Kale was slain or Legolas?

What if Eldarion was killed?

She pushed away her thoughts violently as she approached her tent. She threw open the flap, the shadowy interior of her quarters lit by a single torch. She pulled her tunic over her head and brushed off her shirt. Her stomach lurched with hunger.

Her breath caught in her throat when she heard movement in the shadows. She unsheathed her dagger and whipped around. Eldarion sat in the chair beside her bed, his legs spread out in front of him. He watched her thoughtfully. For a moment she was frightened that he had discovered her true identity.

"You can put that away, Morwen." He spoke evenly, her fears subsiding as she set the blade down.

"Do you wish to speak to me, your highness?" She asked quietly.

His eyebrows arched, "Why so formal?"

She shrugged and sat down beside him on her bed, setting the now sheathed dagger on the ground next to her. Eldarion stood and paced around the warmly lit room for a moment. He stopped in front of her. Laurelin noticed that his forehead had the familiar creases again.

"Morwen," He said, running his hand through his hair, "What is to happen to us."

"We will ride to Moria in the dawn-"

"Stop it." He spat, his tongue sharp, "You know that is not what I mean," He knelt in front of her and took up her hands in his, "Morwen," His voice was soft again, "What is going to happen?"

Laurelin could barely look at him. She was to marry him in another life; in this one she had given her maidenhead to him. What a tangled web she had gotten herself into. Nothing could ever be between them. If they parted ways, he would return to Gondor to find that his bride had gone missing. He would be relieved and go on living life, never knowing that his runaway captain had been his betrothed all along. If she told him the truth...that was out of the question. His eyes implored her to speak, to answer, anything to break the terrible silence.

Laurelin breathed deeply, "You are to be married, your highness." She replied, staring at their intertwined fingers, "There is nothing to happen."

She felt her eyes well and a droplet slide down her cheek. How had she gotten here? Everything had happened so fast. How could she have allowed herself to fall in love with the man she had tried to run from?

"No," Eldarion said, huskily, "No Morwen, I do not even know my betrothed. I won't let it happen," His brought her forehead to his roughly, his hand cradling her face; "I love you." The words bit deep into her spirit bittersweet, "Say you love me too, say it, Morwen." He whispered, brushing his lips over her brow and down the bridge of her nose.

Laurelin felt the words choke her throat, "Eldarion-"

"Say it, please,"

"Eldarion, I can't," She cried openly now as his arms wound around her waist.

"Please..."

Laurelin felt her defenses give as he kissed mouth, coaxing her lips open. Gently, he pushed her back onto the bed and she allowed him. Gods in heaven, why did she allow him? His lips followed the indent of her collar bone, mumbling incoherently as he unlaced her shirt. Why wasn't she stopping him? She knew that any future with Eldarion was impossible. Dear Eluvatar, why wasn't she saying anything?

She was too far gone to do anything. It was no use.

"Say you love me, please,"

The words filled her mouth like milk and honey.

"Please."

"I love you, Eldarion." She whispered, her eyes brimming again with tears, "I love you."

Eldarion groaned and took her mouth again.

The torch slowly burned out.

* * *

Laurelin wrapped a blanket around her. The grass was cool on her naked feet as she swung her legs onto the ground. It was still night, dawn had not yet raped the innocent black sky with its hungry fingers. However, morning was close and they would be leaving soon. She looked over at Eldarion where he lay still sleeping. His hair was splayed out; a shock of dark locks against the pure white pillow. His chest rose and fell; the skin ten to his breast bone where it paled. Laurelin smiled sadly, her heart aching with truth.

She stood and tightened her grip on the sheet around her bare shoulders.

She had said the words. She had told the Prince that she loved him. She roughly dragged the heel of her hand over her eyes and set it her table. She picked up her shirt and leggings that had been discarded and folded them neatly. Carefully she lit a candle and sat watching it. She had said the words. She closed her eyes and racked her brain. Why had she done that?

She heard Eldarion stir. She turned and found that he was watching her. His grey eyes were deep with thought, as usual. She blushed and looked down.

"Come back to bed, dear one. We still have a few more moments." He said softly.

She obeyed, spreading out the extra blanket over them as she lay beside him, nestling her head in his chest.

"Eldarion?"

"Hmm?" He murmured quietly, running his fingers through her hair.

"I have something to tell you."

"Yes?"

She could feel the words, the truth, breeching her lips. How much she wanted to tell him; to hear him call her by her real name. She shivered and shut her eyes tightly. Before she could tell him, a voice came from outside the tent.

"Captain Morwen, we leave soon."

Laurelin opened her eyes, "Thank you," She called back, sitting up.

She could hear the camp waking up outside.

"We'd better be up, dearest." Eldarion said, kissing her shoulder and jumping out of the cot, "What did you want to tell me?" He asked, gathering his clothing.

"Nothing," Laurelin replied, falling back into the sheets, "Absolutely nothing."


End file.
